PRIMARCHS 2
by Lastie
Summary: Continuing off from the PRIMARCHS storyline when the original story thread disappeared into the depths of Warseer, PRIMARCHS 2 sees the return of the Primarchs and their new adventures read: managing to screw everything up !
1. Chapter I

_To stare into the realm of Tzeentch is to stare into limitless, formless, incomprehensible insanity without boundaries or any kind of logical structure. Or something like that, at any rate I won't bother to brutalise the English language trying to describe something language was never invented to describe in the first place. Needless to say; it's a crazy place. So when I say Tzeentch was smoking a purple chimpanzee while sipping a vertical river by the Pythagorean principle just smile and nod and go with the flow, so to speak._

_Anyway, these actions she was participating in much to her delight squared (go with it!) and wondering if the iron ball syndrome was perfect for the laser-bat principle (ah hell, I give up) …_

_Tzeentch was doing stuff in her realm, pondering what had just recently occurred within the Imperial Palace with the reveal of the Plot Hole and the subsequent abduction of the Primarchs to who knows where, when it occurred to her that she had the means to answer that question. Conveniently enough it was in her back yard, metaphorically-speaking of course._

_Walking across the room (it's not a room) she was relaxing within (she's neither relaxing nor 'inside' the room, which isn't a room anyway) she approached the window (it's not a window) and leaned out (she neither leaned nor protruded 'out' because it's not a window … you see how hard talking about the Warp is? Read Codex: Daemons sometime for a prime example) to call down to Kairos Fateweaver, who was stumbling around the garden (not a garden) mumbling to himself._

**Tzeentch: **"HEY! GET YOUR TWO THICK … wait, I'm repeating myself"

Wait … what?

Really?

**Tzeentch: **"Oh definitely. You think I'm wrong?" _She smiles (she doesn't really)._ "I see what you did there. Are you writing over an old **PRIMARCHS** chapter?"

I … checks the file's name … **might** be … why?

**Tzeentch: **"You know what they say about writers who rest on their laurels and write using only older material?"

They're called Terry Goodkind?

**Tzeentch: **"I was going for Alan Moore myself, but that's by-the-by … restart using a more appropriate scene for our reintroduction, if you please? I think we've earned it. We're mentioned on TV Tropes after all ..."

Oh wow … Internet celebrity status here I come. Next month I shall be enjoying lunch with LittleKaribo, dinner with the Nostalgia Critic, and settle in for a night of retro gaming with James Rolfe …

**Tzeentch:** "Sarcasm ill-befits you"

I disagree. This entire concept this 99.9% obnoxious sarcasm against Black Library Publications.

**Kairos Fateweaver: **"So … will I be needed in this scene? Do I have dialogue? Do I have a purpose here? Otherwise I've two beaks and both are in dire need of a drink"

**Tzeentch: **"Oh don't be silly darling. Now be a dear, stop raping the question mark and go make me a cup of coffee" _It's not coffee, nor is it in a cup. You should know this by now. _"Now **you**-"

Me?

**Tzeentch:** "Yes, you. Narrator. Lastie. Whatever. Start again and this time use something **fresh** and **original**"._ She sighs._ "And I do realise the irony of associating those two words with the 41st millennium … you may fade out now"

Oh thank you.

_Let us leave this place of awkward descriptive narrative and enter somewhere more agreeable with the limits of the English language; the grand continent-spanning Imperial Palace of Holy Ancient and Awesome Terra. Much has changed since we were last here. The great banners that hung from the spires of a thousand towers have long since been taken down and replaced with fresh material declaring a new age of peace, happiness, prosperity, and affordable healthcare. The leering gargoyles that clung to the corners and stared down mockingly at the toiling billions below are no more; replaced by cutesy cherubs holding loudspeakers conveying the pre-recorded uplifting speeches from the Imperial Steward of the Great Throne – Malcador the Sigilite._

**Malcador: **"Good morning citizens of Terra! I trust you are in as glorious a mood as I am on this wonderful sunny day. Give thanks to the environmental engineers for the low cloud cover and slowed orbital rotation giving us more sun for a longer day! A longer day, of course, means more work to achieve! Give thanks to the bankers who organise your pay checks, and work hard to earn them! Give thanks to the high-speed Warpband that has replaced the astropaths of old, giving us instant communication throughout the Imperium! Give thanks-"

_And so on. In total he lists four thousand and seventy-six different departments, from the impressive (the Space Marines! Building your houses for the glory of mankind!) to the mundane (need to teach your kids an important life lesson? Scare them straight with the help of the Eversor temple!). This continues throughout the day as countless (read: eight hundred and twelve) billions go about their daily duties as assigned to them by the government via crappy Saturday evening quiz show. This is the Grand New-Age Imperium; a place of mundane work and responsibilities. Nothing interesting ever happens outside office water cooler conversations regarding last night's plot-twist on Lost: The Armageddon Years*. Lots of peace, plenty of respite and no war._

_And the reason for this change? The disappearance of the Primarchs many years ago. Due to a series of incredibly convoluted events that I won't bore you here by relaying**, the Primarchs returned then disappeared into worlds unknown. Sent by a force greater in power than all of them combined (bad writing. No, seriously!). In their absence the forces of the Imperium were powerless to stop the rise of an unholy alliance; the combined magnificent bastardry of Malcador and Eldrad Ulthran, Farseer of Ulthwe and All-Round Grand Master Dick. Their powers of superdickery combined, Malcador and Eldrad conquered all in their path. The galaxy was at last united by a single cause; absolute peace, prosperity, and all-round happiness._

_The horror._

_Let us see the chief mastermind of this unthinkably horrible act as Malcador leaves his office to the sound of classical opera:_

**Malcador: **_Swinging his master-crafted symbol of office around his head as he dances across the marble floor. Dozens of attendants swarm around him, brushing the dust from his clothes and straightening his cloak. _"A glorious day is it not?"

**Palace Staff: **_Replying in unison._ "Oh yes! Indeed it is!"

**Malcador: **"And who do you have to thank for it?"

**Adeptus Custodes Guard: **_Opening the doors as Malcador walks through. _"Why you, our lord!"

**Malcador: **_Standing before the Throne of Terra with a smug look on his face. _"Indeed, and you know how I accomplished such things?"

**Palace Staff/Adeptus Custodes: **"No! Please tell us!"

**Malcador: **_His smugness reaching new and epic levels. _

"I am the very model of an Adeptus of Antiquity,

I've power over everyone, as far as the eye can see,

From Space Marines arrogant, who claim they never flee,

To Imperial Guard defiant, who bow at the very sight of me,

I've conquered every part of this great open astral sea,

To the Gates of Varl I've opened with bloody war-forged key,

_He dances around the throne room like Dick Van Dyke in _Mary Poppins._ It's all really quite embarrassing and I'll save you the narrative descriptions._

And now this realm of hatred and wrath will cease,

With my home-made brand of wholesome peace,

_He flings open the doors onto the balcony overlooking the great plaza below where millions are standing ready to cheer. It's all quite sickening._

**Crowds of Terra: **"With his home-made brand of wholesome peace!"

**Malcador: **_Wrapped up in the moment and gunning for an academy award or two._

"Now the very gods of war bow down before my feet!

Upon my altar of glory they proclaim their absolute defeat!

For I've power over everyone, as far as the eye can see,

None contest I am the model of an Adeptus of Antiquity!"

**Crowds of Terra: **"Let none contest he is the model of an Adeptus of Antiquity!"

**Malcador: **"I am the model of an- …"

**THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND!: **"OH FOR MY SAKE WHAT THE HELL IS ALL THIS SINGING!"

_Malcador spins round and with aghast sees twenty-two individuals of certain infamous characters standing before him. One of them stands forward, bedecked in glorious shining gold and sporting a sports cap with the words '_WORLD'S GREATEST DAD' _written in gold upon it._

**Malcador: **"Wait! You! And you! And you! And … oh, sorry Mortarion I didn't recognise you … did you cut your hair? And **you**! And you! And … good **gods** have those things **grown** Hecate? Ahem … and **you** and-"

**Perturabo: **"Yes, yes we get the picture. That disgusting song and dance number set the scene quite well; what have you **done** to the place?"

**Horus:** "I agree" _He looks momentarily shocked at that, before continuing. _"This place is **clean**, **well-lit** and there's no **skulls anywhere!** What have you done?"

**Malcador: **_Drawing himself up and trying to look imposing. _"I have brought … peace"

_A collective gasp arises from the assembled Primarchs (and one God Mode Plot Device On Legs). _

**Mortarion: **"You … you **monster!**"

**Angron:** "Think of the **children!**"

**Leman Russ:** "What children?"

**Vulkan:** "Long story, Dorn can fill you in"

**Roboute Guilliman:** "He definitely fill **someone **in! Am I right! **Respect **for the Robmeister!"

_Deafening silence greets that last statement. _

**Roboute Guilliman: **"Fine. The Robmeister will respect himself"

**Rogal Dorn:** "Someone will have to I suppose"

**Konrad Curze: **"No, no one has to. It's seriously not required"

**Sanguinius: **"Well I for one welcome our new interior fashion designers, this place is **fabulous!**"

**Lorgar: **"Did he get **more** gay while we were away, or are we just suffering from some serious character derailment here?"

**Lion El'jonson: **"We had characters?"

**Corax: **"Of course we did. We were all the Official Emperor Fan Club and Support Group. Remember the good old days following dad around reminding him how awesome he was?"

**THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND!: **"I remember. Good days them. What happened?"

**Horus:** "My Heresy"

**Magnus the Red:** "Then subsequent book series"

_A collective shudder echoes throughout the group._

**THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND!: **"Everyone had a turn speaking? I've got a plot to initiate here!"

**Hecate: **"No! I haven't said anything. Carl's keeping quiet. Alpharius and Omegon are standing at the back looking shifty. Khan's doing his … penetrable gaze thing he does … and Ferrus is still playing with the new wPhone"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Hey everyone, look! If I turn it sideways my porn changes angle!"

**Hecate: **"OK we're done. Did someone mention Plot?"

**Malcador: **"Yes **why are you all here?** I did not spend millennia plotting your downfall and subsequent removing from this universe just for you to turn up back here again with little explanation! Please, tell me, **why? **Explain, damn you, **explain!**"

**THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND!: **"Calm down. Funny story actually. You see I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a girl who slept with a guy who did the back lawn for a girl who keeps the dental records for a guy who knows Alan Merrett. Got his lap top fixed and bang – here we are! Back in canon baby!"

**Magnus the Red:** "Well technically 40K doesn't have 'canon' per se-"

**Horus: **"Shut up Magnus"

**Malcador: **"This isn't fair! This isn't fair! I should have won! I should have finally beaten you all! I should be ruler of my own kingdom!"

**Hecate: **"Aww … there-there … poor Malcy. We've gone and spoilt his carefully-laid plans for galactic domination again. That's it, let it all out"_ She says as Malcador sobs like a kid in her arms (it bares reminding that Hecate, being a Primarch, is a __**big**__ girl. _

**THE EMPEROR OF MANKIND!: **"Whatever. I've got a seat to sit imposingly within". _He sits himself down on the Imperial Throne and slouches magnificently. _"Awesome. Right, the Big E's back in town. Spread the word. Spread the pain. Spread the war. Go forth my sons-" _Hecate clears her throat. _"-and single irritating daughter, and return **WAR** to this universe!"

_The Primarchs let loose a roar of satisfaction, pumping the air with their fists. Eventually the cries die down, leaving everyone looking around in confusion. _

**Malcador: **_Pointing. _"The space port's that way"

* * *

* Last night's plot twist: Ben is an Ork Warboss in disguise, Jacob is a C'tan hoping to manipulate the survivors of Mechanicus Flight 815 into doing his bidding, and John Locke is actually an Inquisitor Lord with a mission of his own. Tune in next week for the stunning conclusion!

** Warseer ate it anyway.


	2. Chapter II

_It is generally agreed by Imperial scholars that the Blood Angels chapter of Space Marines and their successors all share two identifiable states of being: one being a calm and rational lover of the fine arts, good wine, enjoyable conversations and pleasant social evenings._

_The other is batshit-oh-my-god-they're-eating-her-and-then-they're-going-to-eat-me-oh-my-__**GOD!**__-crazy._

_These two halves of the Blood Angels psyche has led most people to adopt a certain … cautious approach to dealing with them. With the latest vintage and two glasses in one hand, the latest copy of _Times_ magazine in the other, while wearing the very best in running shoes. _

_Sanguinius, naturally, has felt little need for the last addition to his attire. As he walks down the ramp of the Thunderhawk gunship, having just landed on Baal, a dozen servitor thralls walk behind him carrying several tonnes of clothes and alcohol._

**Sanguinius: **_Spreading his arms wide open. _"Why hello all! I'm back you beautiful boys!"

**Dante:** _Waiting at the bottom of the ramp with Lemartes, Astorath, and Mephiston. _"... who is he?"

**Lemartes: **_Leaning over and whispering in Dante's ear, which of course Sanguinius can hear perfectly. _"Sanguinius, I think. I mean he's got wings. Must be Sanguinius"

**Dante: **"Like that proves anything. Every bloody chaos army these days has some big dude with wings at the front … and they're all usually telling you what to do, to boot"

**Astorath: **"Yeah, that's quite annoying. Anyway I agree with Dante; it can't be Sanguinius; doesn't look anything like our artwork"

**Sanguinius: **_Annoyed. _"Firstly it hasn't been **that** long since I was last here, and secondly **what **artwork?"

**Dante:** _Pointing over his shoulder. _"That"

_Sanguinius regards the giant painted wall that marks the side of the great fortress. To say the winged figure depicted was well built would be like saying the Pacific is a particularly large stretch of water, or _Twilight_ is regrettably successful. A vast understatement. It also looks nothing like Sanguinius._

**Sanguinius:** "That looks nothing like me! Look I am Sanguinius! I'll prove it; hand me some wine ..."

_Five minutes and one abysmal Culture Club karaoke session later …_

**Dante: **"OK he's Sanguinius. Anyone doubt this?" _There is a collective shaking of the heads._

**Sanguinius: **"Glad we've got that sorted out". _Something large and menacing flies overhead with a loud sonic boom. _"What the hell was that? Was that a **dreadnought** hanging from it?"

**Dante: **"What? The Stormraven gunships? Yeah, had them for a while"

**Sanguinius: **"Where did you get them from?"

**Lemartes: **"They came in the post one morning. Had a note attached to them from the AdMech; 'Found these down the side of the sofa. Thought you might like them'"

**Sanguinius: **"Really? The AdMech are letting us use these things?"

**Astorath:** "And the sweet thing is **no one else** has them"

**Dante: **"Take that Ultradicks"

**Sanguinius: **"So we've got the Stormraven, which is unique to us, and the Baal Predator, which is still unique to us?" _The other marines nod. _"And the AdMech … are **letting** us?" _Dante nods. _"The same AdMech that are ruthlessly zealous over every scrap of knowledge, the same AdMech that considers it heresy that anyone should so much as tighten a screw without their blessing, the same AdMech that supply **every single weapon, piece of armour and tank **in this chapter … and they're **letting us use these things?**"

**Dante: **"I know. It's really nice of them considering we send our genetic information to Mars every decade"

_Ominous music plays._

**Dante:** "Oh damn … did I just mention a Plot Point?"

**Mephiston:** "Personally I'm just going to hope that was another Lastie Rant TM about the idiosyncrasies of our millennium … but I might be possessed so what do I know?"


	3. Chapter III

_As the morning sun rises over a panorama of violence, smoke columns, and the screams of the dying a squadron of Valkyries flies overhead to the tune of Richard Wagner as their occupants dive out the side, remembering to strap grav-chutes to their backs beforehand. On the ground below countless tanks make their slow and ponderous way across what used to be, as the muddied and crushed signs still declare, '_Eldrad Ulthran's Day Care Centre For Little Dicks'_. Alongside the tanks march the proud soldiers of the Cadian 8__th__; the 'Emperor's Realistically Affordable Imperial Guard Option'. _

_Standing proud on the lead chimera command apc is none other than Ursarkar Edwina Creed, looking proudly as his troops complete the surprise assault on an unarmed Eldar colony. His heterosexual life buddy Jarran Kell stands beside him bellowing out orders._

**Jarran Kell: ** pause for breath 'RELYINGTOYOUTHISISN'THOLIDAYCAMPTHISISWARNOW pause for breath MOVEITIFISEEYOUSLACKINGI' pause for breath GODEMPERORFORSAKENASSES!

**Creed: **"Looking good Kell. We've met minimum resistance. We can proudly announce our gloriously returned Emperor that ke can notch up another world on his galaxy-sized Monopoly board"

**Kell: **!

**Creed: **"Indeed" _Notices the colour of Kell's face. _"Breath Kell … that's it … deep breaths. Remember oxygen is good; oxygen is your friend. Don't desert it. Hello, what's this?" _He lifts a pair of image-enhancers to his eyes and peers through them. _"Resistance? Where did they come from?" _His views swings from the assembling Eldar war host to a large archway. The sign hanging from it proclaims '_Vect's Budget Webway Gates' _to the world. _"Hmm … roll out the big guns lads. We have company"

_His second-in-command leans over the side of the Leman Russ he's riding in to shout over to Creed across the small gap between their vehicles. _

**Knight Commander Pask: **"What kind of 'big guns' do you have in mind sir?"

**Creed: **"Depends. What have Forge World TM released recently?"

**Knight Commander Pask: **"Sir they're doing Orks at the moment"

**Creed: **"Damn their dirty xenos-loving hides, so what have we got with us-" _Turns around to regard his forces, then stops dead. _"Pask … what are those things?" _He points at two large missile launchers moving alongside them._

**Knight Commander Pask: **"Deathstrike missile launchers, sir"

**Creed: **"Sorry, let me clearer, I know what they **are**, why are they **here?**"

**Knight Commander Pask: **_Blinks in surprise. _"New kit sir, just got them this morning in the post. Could have made some manticores, sir, but the men thought the deathstrike looked sexier"

**Creed: **"Be that as it may, Pask, you do realise what the deathstrike missile is?" _Upon receiving Pasks' blank stare, Creed continues. _"It's an inter-continental ballistic missile, Pask. As in 'between continents'? Designed to kill stuff on the other side of the planet?" _More blank stare. _"Pask, how far away are the Eldar?"

**Knight Commander Pask: **"About five hundred metres and closing, sir"

**Creed: **"Indeed. Such a pity that the low-orbit trajectory of an in-flight deathstrike missile renders it's minimum range at about five hundred **miles**"

**Knight Commander Pask: **"... oh … maybe it can do a loop sir?"

**Creed: **"A loop?"

**Knight Commander Pask: **"Yeah, look around the planet and come back? Planets are round, right?"

**Creed: **"... next time build a manticore, Pask. We can use Coke bottles for deahtstrikes if we feel the need ..."

**Eldar Autarch: **_From across the gulf between armies, his voice carried by foul xenos laud hailer technology. _"What's the meaning of this betrayal? Has Malcador lost his mind? Eldrad will hear of this through your head presented to him on a plush velvet cushion … with an apology card!"

**Creed: **_Calling back. _"New management in town. Malcador's no longer calling the shots. We answer to the Big E now!"

**Eldar Autarch: **"This is an outrage! This is … wait … where did that Reaver Titan come from? What do you mean 'behind that tree'. It's **tiny**; there's not enough to hide a **titan**! For a such a vehicle to appear from nowhere must be the work of some kind of tactical geni- … **CREEED!**"

**Creed: **_Chuckling to himself. _"It's good being me"


	4. Chapter IV

**Dante: **"And here we have the current members of your Sanguinary Guard"

_Sanguinius stares at the ranks of gold-armoured individuals, all standing so stiffly to attention that they manage the impossible feat of __**invert**__ moving (that is to say, not moving so much they actually go full circle and move quite freely in the opposite dimension(s) to normal movement. It has to be seen to be believed). In one hand he holds a glass of what was assured (repeatedly, by chaplains, who are excellent at insisting certain concepts are facts) to be the finest vintage in the chapter repositories, while the other has the latest chapter inventory (all fifteen different versions currently published by GW). _

**Sanguinius: **"My what?"

**Dante: **_Blinks in surprise. _"Your Sanguinary Guard, my lord? Remember Azkaellon?"

**Sanguinius: **"Who?"

**Mephiston: **"Wait for the _Horus Heresy_ treatment for our chapter, my lord. Your 'memories' will return then, I am sure"

**Sanguinius: **"I can't wait to discover new and exciting details about myself! Perhaps I've made deals with secretive organisations of alien plotting the downfall of the Human race via convoluted plots involving simple yes/no possible futures and easily convinced genetically engineered super commanders to execute them. Perhaps I've actually got a twin! Perhaps I'm actually a loyalist all along and really want to be super-best-buddies with my daddy Emperor again! Perhaps-"

**Mephiston: **"We get the idea. I did note much of that rant was against Alpharius' back story"

**Sanguinius: **"That's because you stopped me before I could use my plot-convenient powers of foresight to reveal details about future BL publications (by the way, _Wolves of the Moon _will totally suck. Horus turns out to be Alpharius in disguise)"

**Mephiston: **"Who isn't Alpharius in disguise?"

**Astorath: **"You guys" _Shifts a little before growing a few inches and gaining a smug expression, revealing himself to be … surprise-surprise, Alpharius in disguise. _"Ouch … polymorphine's a bitch to control when you've still got a hangover"

**Sanguinius: **"Speak of the devil – Alpharius you beautiful boy, how are you?"

**Alpharius: **"Worried. Oh put that gun down Dante and tell your golden boys to holster theirs as well. I'm not here to spread trouble, just to deliver a message to my brother".

**Sanguinius: **"Oh dear. Plot?"

**Alpharius: **"I'm afraid so. You hear dad's mobilised the war effort once again?"

**Sanguinius: **"Yes, that's what we do. Kill everyone for little reason. This is not really the time to start developing a conscience. Some time **before** that last galaxy-threatening Plot Hole might have been handy. Before Vect appeared and reduced us to the level of baby-bag-wearing monsters would also have been handy. I mean, seriously-"

**Alpharius: **"Relax. I'm not starting any pro-life human rights groups any time soon. I just want to pass on the message to look out for you-know-who in your travels around the galaxy blowing shit up"

**Sanguinius:** "Who?"

**Alpharius: **"You know … **her**"

**Sanguinius: **"... who?"

**Alpharius: **_Sighs._ "Aeris/Aerith"

**Sanguinius: **"... who?"

**Alpharius: **"Just look out for the guys who put us in that half-a-year hiatus in the first place. The Blood Ravens chapter has dropped off the face of the galaxy. My sources can't find Eldrad Ulthran anywhere, and that flower bitch has disappeared too. If you see **or **hear **any** of them do tell me. We're on the same side remember?"

**Sanguinius: **"You're loyalist?"

**Alpharius: **"... apparently. Yeah I don't get it either, but I'm playing along. Magnus is in the club as well"

**Sanguinius: **"So who's **actually **with Chaos?"

**Alpharius: **"Probably just Lorgar. By himself. With his books" _His image shift again. _"Gotta go. Cameo appearances in other chapters to make. Long worn-out running gag to upkeep" _He disappears._

**Dante: **"I wonder where Astorath went, the real one I mean?"

**Sanguinius: **"Probably never existed. I certainly don't remember him from before"

**Dante: **_Something occurs to him. _"Be right back; going to warn Grimnar to keep an eye on the new characters"

**Sanguinius: **"Ooh! Plot Point!"

**Mephiston: **"Probably just a red herring in the guise of a throwaway snarky comment"

**Sanguinius: **"Oh cheer up Mephiston. Here, have some cheap wine"


	5. Chapter V

_Commander Dante of the Blood Angels is not a man who takes pride in his accomplishments easily (the general consensus being that pride leads to smugness, smugness leads to superiority, and superiority leads to painting your armour blue and calling yourselves by such brazen names like 'Ultramarines'). However, right this moment, he could not be more proud of his Primarch and genetic primogenitor if he tried (OK, perhaps if Sanguinius decided to get a haircut and look presentable then maybe, but still …) ..._

**Sanguinius: **"So blood fists are basic dreadnought close combat weapons, blood talons are essentially lightning claws, and liturgies of blood are the same quotes from the same book as liturgies of hate!"

**Dante: **_Clapping, oddly enough not in a sarcastic manner as is usually the case. His fingers take a while to get used this motion. _"Indeed! Well done my Primarch!"

**Sanguinius: **_Still slightly confused. _"So why all the names with 'blood' in the title?"

**Dante: **"Why do Space Wolves have to re-name all of their equipment to include 'wolf' in the title?"

**Sanguinius: **"Good point. Remind me to ask Wolf McWolfywolfenson next time I meet him"

**Mephiston: **"I maintain he only exists as a far-too-subtle in-joke on the whole 'black and white space marine on a black and white bike', only with 'wolf' instead of 'bike'"

**Dante: **"But thunder-plot-device-wolves aren't black and white"

**Mephiston: **"Touché"

**Astorath: **_The real one, having been found elsewhere in the chapter keep dressed in his casual garb; an eye-raping Hawaiian* t-shirt and shorts that render him completely unrecognisable for anyone used to use usual attire of red power armour with the human musculature system carved into it. The flower rings in his hair didn't help matters much either. In fact it took so long for anyone to recognise him that Astorath spent several hours in the search operation before anyone informed him that __**he**__ was the one everyone was looking for. _"I sense negative waves emanating from this conversation. Let us renew our efforts to restore harmony ..." _He closes his eyes and begins to hum._

**Mephiston: **"I believe hippy man is trying to tell us not to get side-tracked away from the purpose of his conversation. We've already dedicated three chapters to this and I'm beginning to wonder why we're hogging so much script time. We can't have filler this early already ..."

**Dante: **"Fear not! I believe the crash-course training has brought our Primarch up to date with the latest in Blood Angel equipment" _He points to two huge aircraft parked at the opposite end of the hanger. _"What are they?"

**Sanguinius: **"Stormraven gunships. Our super-special landing craft that no one else has, until the Grey Knights get their own dirty little codex. The AdMech don't mind us having it despite our continuing efforts to give them the finger with regards to the Baal schematics. The boys in blue **wish **they have something this cool"

**Mephiston: **_Shrugs. _"Fair enough, he's learning. And land raiders?"

**Sanguinius: **"Have to be signed out of the armoury on a transportation contract. If nothing's going inside them, then the techmarines won't let any slip free of their grubby servo-arms"

**Mephiston: **"Although I hear they're desperate for someone to take one of the godhammer-patterns out for a spin. Show it some love"

**Dante: **"Don't be silly. Who uses anything but a Redeemer these days?" _He pauses as a thrall quickly hands him a scroll, which he quickly proceeds to unroll and read. _"Oh damn. We're being ordered out already"

**Sanguinius: **"Surely that's good?"

**Dante: **"Not really. Our glorious Protector Of His Drinks Cabinet has paired us with the Boys in Blue"

**Sanguinius: **_Groaning. _"Oh gods … Roboute ..." _He sighs. _

**Dante: **"Remind me why we didn't join Horus again?"

**Sanguinius: **"We did try; but apparently we were 'too thematically similar to the World Eaters and didn't fill any necessary tropes concerning force composition that weren't already taken'. Angron keeps reminding me he got there first, but the jokes on him because we have a Codex and his boys don't!"

**Mephiston: **"Even written by Matt Ward?"

**Sanguinius: **_Sulking. _"... don't deny me my little pleasures in life ..."

* While the island chain of Hawaii was burnt away thousands of years ago by industrious techno-warlords during the Age of Strife, their sense of fashion (or at least the tourists' **idea** of Hawaiian fashion) has survived. Like the clothing counterpart to cockroaches.


	6. Chapter VI

_The Dark City of Commorragh; a hellish pit of foul abominations all striving to outdo each other in foul deeds like a twisted form of Britain's Got Talent, all to the joy and pleasure of Simon Cowell's almost identical twin brother … Asdrubael Vect (Cowell, at least it can be safely said, has __**some**__ standards somewhere). From atop his great citadel of decadence Vect oversees the bustling Dark Eldar city as it prepares for a great event …_

**Asdrubael Vect:** _Speaking into the microphone, held within the jaws of a still-living child stapled to the walls. _"Careful now! Be very careful with the new equipment! The Codex isn't out yet and you're already threatening to break all our new toys! LEAVE THAT ALONE URIEN! Oh and would someone **please** kill Kruellagh? Her incessant crying is beginning to piss me off! NO ONE CARES IF SHE'S IN THE CODEX OR NOT!" _He draws away from the child-phone and lets it drop to the floor with a muffled sob. _"Kaela M Khaine, this is madness!"

**Eldrad Ulthran: **"Not Sparta?"

_Asdrubael Vect is not a many easily startled, for that emotion requires one to assume certain laws are present in the world for the breaking of said laws to come as a surprise. Vect doesn't recognise any laws except his own; which is no one can tell him what to do. Ever. Vect is usually not a man to be taken by surprise, as he's probably been expecting it all along. This time, however, Vect is quite startled to hear Eldrad's voice in what was previously an empty room._

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Where the nine-flavoured hells of the warp did you come from? Do you know **everyone's** looking for you? Malcador's ratted you out; you've got the entire military might of the Human Imperium turning this galaxy upside down looking for you under the pretence of some pitiful excuse to restore the validity of this game's tag line"

**Eldrad Ulthran: **_Sitting on Vect's chair and seeming quite relaxed with himself. _"Let them look. They'll never find me. He who controls the canon controls the narrative, after all"

**Asdrubael Vect: **_Narrowing his eyes in suspicion. _"What do you mean? Merrett's laptop?"

**Eldrad Ulthran: **_Hand waves it. _"A pitiful plot device. Tracy thinks he brought both himself and his sons back through it but that was merely something I wished them to believe"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"**You **brought the Primarchs back? Why? After all that effort getting rid of them? After that monumental dick of a move that betrayed them to the four corners of established fiction? Who knows what horrors they endured? What strange worlds they had to survive in ..."

**Eldrad Ulthran: **"Wasn't that bad. I know for a fact that Corax spent the entire time enjoying almost endless sex with a St. Louisian necromancer. Unfortunately he now has about five different forms of lycanthropy lying dormant in his blood … for the time being"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"You didn't answer the question"

**Eldrad Ulthran: **"Which one? There were so many" _He grins upon seeing Vect's irritated expression. _"Oh very well. The reason is quite simple; I need the Primarchs out of the way for a narrative moment or two. Just enough time to accomplish what I needed"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Which is?"

**Eldrad Ulthran: **_Opens his palms, revealing great dark holes in the direct centre of each. The holes are seemingly bottomless, leading into an infinite blackness beyond meagre fan-written description. _"This"

**Asdrubael Vect:**_ Recoils back in horror. _"You … merged with the Plot Hole?"

**Eldrad Ulthran: **"Of course … no longer am I a mere Eldar Farseer, forced to **watch** history unfold. Now I **am** the story! This world will follow **my** will! I write the narrative!"

_Dramatic silence. _

**Asdrubael Vect:** "What? With plot holes? Is this fresh from the Stephenie Meyer school of writing or something?"

**Eldrad Ulthran: **"You may jest, but I will soon demonstrate my powers! Just think about which side you wish to belong to when the time comes … Vect ..." _He reaches into his pocket, retrieves a small black object and presses the glowing rune upon it. After a moment a short 'BEEPY-BEEP' rings out and a webway portal appears beside him. _"Catch you later" _He disappears into the portal._

**Asdrubael Vect: **_Leans over and presses the intercom, which squirms under his touch. _"Judith?"

**Intercom/Judith: **_Buzzing with hyperactivity. _"Yes Mr. V?"

**Adrubael Vect: **"Is the portal shielding still up?"

**Intercom/Judith: **"Yes Mr. V; no one can get in or out through portals within a file mile radius of the citadel, just like you requested Mr. V"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"I see … thank you Judith" _He clicks the intercom off, which crawls off to hide in a corner. _"Interesting ..."


	7. Chapter VII

A thousand servitors sit in rows silently processing the vast amount of information that pumps through the many cables leading everywhere across the great cathedral of technology. In their hands, raised before them like begging servants, is held a thousand ergonomic keyboards (designed to minimise the effect of repetitive strain injuries on Astartes) and four-hundred button motion tracking peripherals. This is the Iron Hand's sanctum of technology, their computerised Mecca, their holiest of holy, their LAN party.

**Ferrus Manus: **_Springing to his feet and throwing his arms into the air in delight. _"BOOM! HEAD SHOT!"

A collective groan arises from the chapter as keyboards click away and voice chat relays the tactical inspirations of an entire collective of genetically engineered fragging machines.

**Ferrus Manus:** _Upon noticing the lack of enthusiasm for his four hundred metre lasgun sniping of another player (the 2__nd__ grand company's iron father, in case you were interested), Ferrus lowers his hands and decides to play that age-old Primarch trump card: bitch and wine like a little boy until things go your way. _"Oh come on! That was **epic!** You gotta agree, right? Come on! How awesome was that? That was **awesome**, like … **PRIMARCH AWESOME**; who's with me?"

Silence.

**Ferrus Manus: **_Sitting down and sulking. _"Oh why do I bother? It was a mistake to come back anyway. No one appreciates us anymore; they've got too used to this 'peace' thing Malcador had going. My chapter's **boring** now" _He frowns when he notices his WarpChat is flashing that someone wants to talk to him. _"Hello … when did I give Vect my ASWN* contact details?" _Holding the microphone close to him, he whispers: _"Hello?"

**Vect: **"HEY FERRUS BABY! HOW'S IT HANGING?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Shit!" _He leans over and turns off the PC speakers. _"Hey Vect" _He whispers. _"What's up?"

**Vect: **"Got a major plot happening going on here; just had a visit by our old friend Eldrad"

**Ferrus Manus: **_Looks around to see if anyone was listening to him, but the Iron Hands know what's important in life (gaming) and what isn't (their egotistic Primarch). _"You know the Big E's turning this galaxy upside-down looking for that pointy-eared back-stabbing bastard?"

**Vect: **"I know. Turns out, if said PEBSB is to believed, **that's** all 'just as planned' anyway"

**Ferrus Manus: **"What?"

**Vect: **"Eldrad claims he brought you guys back from wherever it was you all disappeared off to when the Plot Hole won the last story arc. Of course I know better than to trust everything that Manipulative Bastard Incarnate says, but still …"

**Ferrus Manus: **"You think there's an element of truth?"

**Vect: **"I want to know what Eldrad's planning, and fast. He's fused with the Plot Hole Ferrus …"

**Ferrus Manus:** "WHAT?" _Looks around quickly, but everyone's still engrossed in their own gaming. _"He's done **what?**"

**Vect: **"Don't ask me how he's managed it, but whatever he's become now it's bad news all over. So I'm thinking … it's time to get pro-active. Not wait for the story to come to us first, so to speak"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Time to re-form the Starfethers?"

**Vect: **"That and find some of the old crowd; our past allies … you want to take a short trip to Rndum?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Why? What's there?"

**Vect: **"An little friend of ours: Pie May. He relocated there some time ago after the whole 'Fish of Eternity' thing was resolved and you guys got yourselves Alan Merrett's laptop to play with"

**Ferrus Manus:** _Grinning. _"Good times" _The grin disappears. _"Wait … Pie May? You really sure it's a good idea to see him again? I remember the training montage he put us through … Rocky had it **easy**"

**Vect:** "If anyone knows where we can find our old friends, it'll be that diminutive exposition bank. So … meet you outside?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"What? Are you on-world? How did you get past the orbital defence batteries?"

**Vect: **"Come on Ferrus, we're **Eldar**! There's **always** a way past anything you Humans could throw at us! In this case we installed a covert webway portal in your sewer system years ago in case we ever needed it. Anyway, I'm waiting outside"

Five minutes later … outside said building.

**Ferrus Manus: **"I'm a little disappointed that no one's killed you on spot. You really aren't making any effort to be inconspicuous, you know?"

**Vect: **"No need. Anytime one of your guys makes a show about me being … you know … **xenos** and all that Lelith here just waggles her pretty little – I'm sorry **generously gifted** – bosom and they immediately forget anything purge-related and rush back in to relive some built-up Astartes tension with their porn folder, me thinks"

**Lelith: **"And just for the record, I **hate** being objectified"

**Vect: **"My apologies darling, I know you prefer to make **decorative objects** out of anyone objectifying you. I've seen your trophy rack back home" _Looks at Ferrus. _"You'll never see so many severed penises outside a medical conference on genital health"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Charming … remind me of my ex-wife … so … onwards then?"

**Vect: **"Indeed! To Rndum!"

**Ferrus Manus: **"That's a crap name for a planet, by the way"

*AlphariusSoft Warp Network, just so you know.


	8. Chapter VIII

"Fear the unknown, for it has no characteristics for you to kill it with"

_Common Imperial saying_

**Tzeentch: **"Ah … the quote at the beginning of each chapter has returned!"

Pipe down. Some of us are trying to narrate a story here.

_Anyway, let us draw our attention away from the giant cyber-café that is Medusa and focus on another scene in the great galactic space opera that is _Warhammer 40,000. _Let us discover what another Primarch has encountered upon his return to his Legion after an extended leave of absence. On the Planet of the Sorcerers (actual name changes each week according to a complex lottery that involves no less than four different laws of probability and a high amount of cheating) Magnus the Red has returned to find matters not how he left it …_

**Magnus the Red: **"How … how did this happen?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Now don't get angry with her. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't **my** fault either. In fact I'd say it wasn't **anyone's** fault, just an unfortunate act of completely random and arbitrary nature. One of those things; no one could have seen it coming. My condolences".

**Tzeentch: **"I completely agree. Unfortunate, but completely-random-events-that-was-no-one's-fault happen all the time, and … unfortunately … had to happen to Betty"

**Falal: **"Indeed, poor Betty. We mourn her loss"

**Magnus the Red:** _Holds up the remains of what was once his favourite twenty-sided die. _"Betty … you always rolled natural twenties for me … regardless of character or gaming system" _He clenches his fist around the smashed die. _"I will find who did this and I will **end** him! No amount of magical or physical resistances will protect him! My Killing Blow ignores all unit types! I am Lord of the Mega-Death and Master of X-Zone!"

**Tzeentch: **"Yes dear, we get it. You have many references to various RPG systems both pen and paper based or more electronic in nature. However … may I play devil's advocate here and point out that **it was just a die**?"

There's a sudden silence amongst the collected sorcerers as all eyes turn to the giant to see what would happen next.

**Magnus the Red: **_Looks at the remains of Betty. _"Very true" _He throws the remains away and brushes the plastic dust off his hands. _"So … anything else changed? Have you done your hair Falal?"

**Falal: **"No, I'm just occupying different dimensions in relative space than usual"

**Magnus the Red: **"Oh … looks good. Makes you shine. Did I say you look pretty?"

**Falal: **"Magnus don't take this the wrong way, but are you feeling well? You look **genuinely** happy to be back here. That's not the Magnus we all knew and loved"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Agreed. I'd hate to be brutally honest … although I didn't get to wander around the galaxy with nothing but a beaten copy of _The Guide_ and an irate spell familiar called You Wasted A Good Plot by being dishonest in my opinions … but my lord, you've **never** been happy here. Every day you woke up and bitched to the general universe about how unfair everything was that you were here and Russ was getting laid and how your chapter got less units in every incarnation of the Chaos Space Marine codex while Russ got marines on wolves and terminators in drop pods with assault cannons and cyclone missile launchers …"

**Falal: **"Oh that's all illegal now. Has been since second edition, where **have** you been?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Stuck in second edition. Call me old fashioned but I like playing a completely pointless card game in the middle of my toy soldier battle. The point though remains … you're **happy** now. Why?"

**Magnus the Red: **"I met a wonderful group of people in my travels who showed me the true meaning of magic. I understand everything now, how it all works together. How it operates, how it … what are all these signs for?" _He gestures around at the various banners hanging from the ceiling. _

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"You just noticed them? I realise the narrator didn't describe the scene at the opening of the chapter but that's no excuse for such poor Spot checks"

**Magnus the Red: **"'Psyker-fest 012.M42?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Er … yes. Well … while you were away learning the 'true meaning of magic' we were establishing ties with others of our … psychic disposition. We made good relations with other psychic races. Psyker-fest is our yearly meet-up, which we alternate between here and Ulthwe"

**Magnus the Red: **"Ulthwe? Is Eldrad involved with this?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Oh good Chaos no. No one's seen that grox-bag since you left. No our Eldar connections have all been managed by Taldeer in Eldrad's absence"

**Magnus the Red: **"Taldeer Elphchik Phan'cervis?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Any other Taldeer we know?"

**Tzeentch: **"Not until the inevitable clone saga begins …"

**Magnus the Red: **"And look where that got Marvel … so when does this psyker-fest kick off?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Tomorrow all the guests will be arriving, and the fest itself will kick off proper the next day …" _He narrows his eyes. _"Why? What evil scheme is going through your mind right now?"

**Magnus the Red:** _Reaches into a pouch hanging from his waist and hands Ahriman a scroll. _"That was given to me by Horus before I left Terra"

**Falal: **_Reading the scroll over Ahriman's shoulder. _"Nice … is that blood?"

**Magnus the Red: **"Yes. Not Horus' – Ezekyle's. Horus wasn't too happy discovering that the Black Legion had been reduced to intergalactic cookie sellers in his absence"

**Falal: **"Oh that's a shame, I liked Ezekyle"

**Tzeentch: **"Not as much as he liked his blood, I'd wager. Horus likes to write, doesn't he? Did he make nine copies of this for all of you? I doubt there's enough pints of blood in one human body for **one** of these, let alone nine!"

**Magnus the Red: **"Well … no. Luckily Loken was at hand to lend some extra blood for the copies"

**Tzeentch: **"Ah, that explains it. So Tracy wants Eldrad, does he?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Not for tea and biscuits, it seems. From what I gather between all the various descriptive texts of imaginative bodily mutilation that Horus seems to want to deliver upon everyone's favourite farseer the Big E isn't a happy pterra squirrel"

**Magnus the Red: **"On a scale of one to ten, where one is finding out I broke his illegally modified webway portal and ten is discovering a scratch on his favourite suit of powered armour?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Oh definitely a nine-point-five on the Tracyometer. I wouldn't like to be Eldrad right now. Unless I had some kind of galaxy-destroying mega-power at my beck and call to ward him off there's nothing stopping Eldrad meeting an untimely and messy 'rejection' sometime soon. I hear the Big E's already got his favourite Chapters out looking for the dick"

**Magnus the Red: **"Indeed. Horus insists that our search for Eldrad is an entirely separate entity to His search for the same guy, which is already making more mess than we need. Hear about the Dark Angels and the Death Guard clashing on Emoka?" _Ahriman shakes his head. _"Both forces arrived at the same Daemon-infested heckhole looking for Eldrad, got into a minor dispute over the quality of the latest _Bullet for My Valentine_ album which quickly escalated into a full-scale war between the two. Hear the Daemons sold lots of tickets for the stadiums they had built around the fighting. Made a mint, do you think we can do something similar for the next time our side and theirs inevitably mess this whole thing up over some stupid disagreement one of us had ten thousand years ago last weekend?"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Hasn't stopped any of you so far. What happened?"

**Magnus the Red: **"Hmm? Oh the fighting … well they both agreed to call it a stalemate after their prize champions decided to end the fighting once and for all with a personal one-on-one showdown in the middle of the battlefield. Simultaneous wrist-slitting is not the best way to settle a challenge, as it turned out. Although it's quite impressive how much extra bodily fluids a plague marine can ooze out of his major arteries compared to a normal marine …"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"Oh thanks for that image; I **was** planning on having lunch later … what's so amusing T?"

**Tzeentch:** _Giggling to herself. _"Oh sorry. Just got a message from one of my … spies, for want of a more elegant description. The Blood Angels have been despatched and it looks like Tracy has a sense of humour – they've been paired with the Ultramarines to scour the Ultima Segmentum"

**Ahriman the Former Exile: **"The **entire** segmentum? That's a lot of space to cover for two chapters, even two of the biggest Mary Sue gatherings going will have a hard time exploring all that … ground … bad terminology, I know"

**Tzeentch: **"Sorry, when I say Ultramarines I mean **all** of them. Marneus Insuferus Calgar has called all Ultramarine successor chapters back to Macragge to aid their progenitors in hunting for Eldrad"

**Magnus the Red: **"Several hundred thousand Ultramarines and one chapter of Blood Angels? I would feel sorry for Sanguinius if I didn't hate his perfect guts" _He gestures at the scroll Ahriman still holds. _"We'll ignore that for now. I've got an idea … and it's going to need some help. Insufferable Eldar help"


	9. Chapter IX

"_In response to your request into ascertaining the possibilities of air-dropping our land raiders onto the battlefield via thunderhawk transporters I have this to say: providing you do not give a grox's ass about your suspension, MOT, or AdMech insurance, then sure … go ahead"_

_Blood Angels Techmarine_

_The image is standard Imperial quality; grainy, prone to flickering, and with sound that makes even the most masculine of space marines* sound like a eight-year-old with a cold. Under normal circumstances this would be a mild inconvenience. Today the poorly maintained technologies of a galactic empire that still thinks skulls are classic retro gothic decorations only help make matters more bearable for Sanguinius. Anyone can suffer the ego that is Roboute Guilliman if he sounds like a pre-pubescent schoolgirl. _

**Roboute Guilliman: **"Man! It's good to see you bro! This is gonna be like old times; you, me, hanging out kicking ass!"

**Sanguinius: **_Trying his best to maintain a polite expression despite the sarcasm trying to burst through into his voice. _"Erm … yes. Indeed … just like old times. Except with more angst and my legion's about a tenth of the size … thanks for that, by the way"

**Roboute Guilliman: **"What, the Codex? Hey no problem! I know how to feels when you're trying to manage more than you can handle. It's a pity your boys aren't like my boys, but I guess we can't all be perfect can we?"

**Sanguinius: **_Fights off the urge to kick into a sarcastic overdrive that would quite likely sail completely over Roboute's head and only end with the thirteenth Primarch taking him seriously. No one liked Roboute taking them seriously as he tended to listen to exactly what they said then spend several moments analytically tearing it apart word by word and reconstructing the sentences to his liking. 'Rob, could you go get me some coffee' would usually be resolved five months later with the occupation of a random agri world by Ultramarine troops carrying the strict orders to replace all crops with coffee plants and strong-arm all available traders (rogue or otherwise) to ship the harvest directly to your front door on the backs of child servitors. It usually paid to keep Roboute firmly in his own imaginary world. _"No … I guess not"

_Leaning close Dante subtly presses a warm cup of Mad Cap Caffeine into Sanguinius' hands. Taking a sip of the noxious brew (topped with warm cream!) Sanguinius feels his mind slipping into a dull blur as Roboute continued to monologue:_

**Roboute Guilliman: **"With my brains, good looks, superior tactical know-how, popularity, and all-round AWESOME and WIN and your … effeminate appeal to bait the oestrogen … whatever that is … we will be UNSTOPPABLE! No one can stand in the way of the Sons of Guilliman when they put their minds to one goal! Not even the Sons of Guilliman! Think what we can accomplish with your chapter there to cheer us on!"

**Sanguinius: **"The shopping"

**Roboute Guilliman: **"That's only the beginning! Think of the adventure! The glory! The real estate value!"

**Sanguinius: **_Almost chokes on the hallucinogenic coffee. _"Wait, what?"

**Roboute Guilliman: **"I've been thinking lately-"

**Mephiston: **_Standing slightly behind his Primarch, could not resist muttering under his breath. _"Oh dear ..."

**Roboute Guilliman: **"-why does a man like Alpharius get the entire Tau Empire to himself when I, the glorious Roboute James Tiberius Martystu Guilliman, have the meagre region of Ultramar to answer to me?"

**Sanguinius: **"But … brother … by your own Codex our Space Marines **aren't supposed** to own territories. Remember the Heresy? Remember how much manpower answered our beck and call? Remember when you said that was **bad**?"

**Mephiston: **_Whispering to Sanguinius. _"Weren't you **dead** during all of this?"

**Sanguinius: **_Whispering back. _"Minor issue"

**Roboute Guilliman: **"I'm thinking of changing that. In reflection that was a poor choice by myself. To realise that limiting the number of territories to a mere sector for myself was not the best of ideas. From henceforth I shall address this andchange paragraph twenty-three, sentence four, to '[…] and therefore, due to his great and mighty intellect and stunning prowess in the bedroom, Roboute Guilliman and his fine sons and successor chapters shall inherit as much as they desire from the dominion of man'. What do you think?"

**Sanguinius: **"Dad's going to flip his lid"

**Roboute Guilliman: **"Unlikely, this is **me** we're talking about San. He might have thought you were gay, but he certainly thought **I** was a son to be proud of".

**Mephiston: **"That's so wrong ..."

**Sanguinius:** _Ignoring his chief librarian. _"Are we talking about a galactic crusade here, Rob? I thought we were just looking for the Blood Ravens? Round them up and make them answerable for their crimes?"

**Roboute Guilliman: **"Oh we'll do that as well, but the important matter is getting me more play space for the boys and the girls"

**Sanguinius: **"Girls?"

**Roboute Guilliman: **"Oh, didn't she tell you? Such is the legend of my boys that the venerated Lady Helena, Prioress of the Convent Sanctorum, and the Orders of the Bloody Rose and Our Martyred Lady will be joining us on our little crusade here in the Eastern Fringes"

**Mephiston: **_Shudders involuntarily. _"Oh dear God-Emperor … not her"

**Sanguinius: **"Do you know this women then, Calistarius?"

**Mephiston: **"The dear Lady Helena has been speculated to be the avatar of the little-known Chaos god of librarians, such is her attitude to life and its abundance of situations that can be likened to metaphors regarding overdue books. She is insufferable, intolerable, always thinks she's right, never listens to what anyone ever says-"

**Helena: **"And is listening to every word you have said, Calistarius. How nice that you are still as observant as ever, otherwise you might have noticed that Lord Guilliman kindly established a channel for me moments after my introduction"

**Mephiston: **_Gritting his teeth. _"No, sorry. I failed to notice the descriptive narrative. How are you, Lady Helena?"

**Helena: **_Her image crackling and distorting as she speaks._ "Terrible. My hip has gone, my arthritis is acting up thanks to the damn recycled air in these ships, I've lost my favourite reading glasses and now having to make do with these terrible old spares I had that make all the swirly writing on these damn scrolls almost illegible, I've lost that wonderful pen Sister Chastity made, and I'm surrounded by morons". _One of the nearby techmarines casually saunters over to the holographic projector, says a quick prayer, then slaps it hard. The flickering stops._

**Sanguinius: **_Beaming. _"Madam, I do believe I like you. How about you come over to my ship and I treat you to a legendary Blood Angel four-course meal? Did you know our culinary skills are admired across the galaxy?"

**Helena: **"I hear you cook your human thralls"

**Sanguinius: **"That would be the Flesh Tearers, and I assure you last time I talked with him Seth was stamping out that sort of behaviour. It was becoming somewhat costly to keep replacing their servants after each chapter feast day".

**Helena: **_Eyes Sanguinius suspiciously, in a manner only someone over the age of seventy can truly master. _"Very well. These egocentric morons were driving me insane anyway".

**Roboute Guilliman: **"Excuse me?"

**Sanguinius: **"Well I believe that about wraps it up for our introductions. Rob; the Angels Encarmine, Angels Sanguine, and the Angels Vermillion will be arriving soon to join us. I hope you don't mind but I didn't want this whole operation becoming a total Ultramarine-fest. I'd like to have some competent soldiers under my command. Oh do excuse me, this seems to be the coffee speaking now. Good-bye, Rob!" _He cuts off the Primarch before Roboute had a chance to respond. _"I will be seeing you later, my lady" _Sanguinius gives Helena a short bow, before her transmission ends. _"Well … that was interesting".

**Dante: **"Why did you invite Helena over? She's everyone's grandma rolled into one".

**Sanguinius: **"Speaking of someone who never experienced the joys of a grandmother I realise I might be somewhat biased when I say 'excellent!' I look forward to having the woman aboard, if only for some female company. There's far too much testosterone around here ..."

**Mephiston: **_Frowns. _"I thought you were gay?"

**Sanguinius: **_Laughing. _"And deny myself one half of the galaxy in the process? My dear Calistarius, why would I do such a thing? Besides, someone's got the up the promiscuity around here otherwise the only person ever enjoying any action would be Vect, and that's a **horrifying** thought". _He shudders._

**Mephiston: **"Well … please not **both** Orders. Can we limit ourselves to just one?"

**Sanguinius: **_Enjoys the long pause before asking - _"Which one would you like?"

**Mephiston: **"I know a couple of girls from OML that I met a couple of years back during a 'nid invasion ..."

**Dante: **"I'm guessing you impressed them with your Carnifex-dividing skills?"

**Mephiston: **_Grins for the first time in months. _"The ladies do enjoy a bouquet of flowers. Especially flowers made of trygons".

_* Space Marines. Masculine. I realise the oxymoron here._


	10. Chapter X

"_Best kind of pizza service? Daemonic pizza. I'm serious; most take-away pizza services give you the usual 'deliver in thirty minutes or it's yours free' crap but only if your establishment is in the Warp can you offer your pizza free of charge if it isn't delivered to the customer __**before**__ they ordered it"_

_Unknown Adept, presumed executed for heresy_

_I would very much like to describe what Ahriman did moments before uttering his first line of dialogue in this chapter as opening the door to the expansive main library of the Tower of Magnus to allow Taldeer and her entourage of warlocks entry into what was quickly becoming a successful meeting of the minds*. However I would be lying through my teeth (or fingers, as the case may be). Ahriman did not 'open' a door as create one where a door was not moments before and then altered it into an opening where a door had been. The process was longer than necessary, largely due to a Level 4 psyker's natural tendency to show off when performing any feat of mental dexterity. As the opening solidied and pretended to look as if it had been there all along, Ahriman threw a smile upon his face and pretended to seem happy to see her. _

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"Taldeer! How **wonderful** to see you! How exactly have you been since you last graced the main narrative?"

**Taldeer: **_Having spent a few decades on the Path of the Socialite several centuries ago she is far more convincing in her fake joy than Ahriman. _"Oh, not too much. You understand how it is; everything in flux, nothing quite firmly established … you basically just find yourself waiting around for that moment when some higher narrative power than ourselves takes a breath and says 'oh, and for those who were interested Taldeer is currently washing her socks'"

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"How exciting … do you still **wear** socks, just out of interest?"

**Taldeer: **"We might do. Why?"

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"I could do with a pair that don't chafe my feet. Exile does tend to take its toll on the footwear after a couple of millennia … anyway where's my manners? Do come in? Brought drinks? Yes? Then **definitely** come in, all of you!" _As they walk through he turns to the party and exclaims: _"We have warlocks! Enhance for everyone!"

_A great cry rises up as the crowd celebrate the little-known benefit of that particular warlock power when mixed with alcohol. _

**Taldeer: **"I hear old one-eye has an ulterior motive for this event besides the usual chance for him to stroke his galaxy-sized ego**"

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"He does, and before you asked he hasn't told me so whatever he's going to announce will probably be a surprise to me as well. Brace yourself; he wants our attention"

_Indeed Magus was currently tapping politely on a small wine glass while he waited for everyone to stop talking and let him speak. _

**Magnus the Red: **"Ladies, gentlemen, and daemonic creatures of an ambiguous disposition, thank you all for attending this humble get-together that my chief librarian, Ahriman, newly re-instated back into his old position just recently due to good behaviour and successfully answering the question I tasked his exile with, has apparently been organising for years. For those of you who have attended this event for more than one successive year may I thank you for aiding the spirit of psychically-gifted Human and Eldar mutual co-operation and ego-stroking. May we continue to rise above our less-gifted peers and forever piss over those blasted Pariahs and their irritating ability to make the best of us soil our pants like we once did in junior school after the team sports captain hung us by our undergarments from the coat pegs of the changing rooms … an event that I thankfully never had to suffer, on account of the average coat peg height being slightly less than my knees at the time. May I personally say that I have not seen such a fine collection of minds and psychic abilities since last year's Scanners Convention a couple of universes away, an event I attended during my travels. Hopefully we will suffer less head explosions than they did, although one delightful young women I met there did show me how to explode a man in slow-motion, so please don't try my patience today … but I digress; I hope you will forgive an old warlord the opportunity to somewhat hijack a meeting of exceptionally powerful beings for his own nefarious means, but this is what I intend to do. As some of you may be aware my brothers and I (and my delightful sister and father) have recently returned from a forced journey into the Greater Fictional Multiverse at the behest of the entity we mere fictional characters know only as the Plot Hole. This event was only brought to being thanks to the actions of a former farseer of your craftworld, Taldeer, by the name of Eldrad Dyk Ulthran. Suffice to say my dearest father has taken this rather personally, and I understand a certain degree of war dogs have been let slipped into the galaxy"

**Macha: **_Already in the process of getting quite drunk, in the hope that maybe this time she might finally wake up the morning after a social event to find someone else in her bed. She's already decided she won't be too picky this year, and is already wondering how extensive the Changling's abilities can be in certain situations. _"A small understatement Magnus! The Imperial Guard have marched through legitimate Eldar territory established after the C'tanic Heresy***! **Children** have died, **puppies** have been kicked! We demand a response from Terra! This behaviour will not be tolerated! Biel-Tan has a long history of kicking ass when needs be, not like our more … stuffy cousins from other craftworlds" _Throws Taldeer a dirty look, who responds in kind. _"And we will not sit by and allow such action to continue! We will … do stuff! Which might not be pleasant!"

**Magnus the Red:** "Duly noted, and yes I am aware of the atrocities committed on the reclaimed Maiden Worlds. I have a subscription to the Warp News Netowork's daily warpmail bulletins, amongst others … ahem … with these unfolding events in mind I have decided to take action against my father's wishes. For too long I have stood by and witnessed him bully everyone around him into submission and I will be the first to admit I allowed myself to be cowed too easily all those years ago …"

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"Oh not bloody Nicea again … my lord, could you get over it already?"

**Magnus the Red: **"I am over it, Ahriman; my therapist claims it is so. My point, however, remains: I intend to fight this injustice and restore the galaxy to the peace I see it has enjoyed while my brothers (and sister) and I were … away"

**Taldeer: **"So … you're going to fight **against** the Imperium?"

**Magnus the Red: **"Despite what Graham McNeil would have you believe I **am** a Chaos Primarch, and last I checked the Long War hadn't been cancelled due to lack of interest. I for one am **tired** of my **egotistical** father believing he can get his way if he simply smashes aside any objections! Hundreds of worlds have already been subject to off-screen genocide simply for preferring democratic election protocols rather than the Adeptus-preferred method of 'worship, pay your tithes, and shut the hell up'. If they greet an invading force of Guard with contempt then they must be hiding Blood Ravens or possibly Eldrad himself – nuke from orbit, it's the only way to be sure! That, my friends, is the Imperium in a nutshell. I'm sick of it. Malcador may have been an ass, but he brought us **peace**. Who wishes to see it returned?"

_There's a general nodding of heads as a crowd who, collectively, is far too intellectual for cliché cheering after a good speech makes display their approval. _

**Njal Stormcaller: **_Throwing away the heavy robes that made him totally inconspicuous in a room full of people wearing light smart-casual clothes as one does in a social gathering where there might be attractive members of the opposite sex that one might wish to indulge themselves an intellectual conversation with (and by that I totally mean sex). _"Never did I expect to hear such words from the Primarch of the Thousand Sons, of all people. Yet you speak words of wisdom, Magnus"

_Silence._

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"OK, who let the dog in?"

**Magnus the Red: **"Now, now. Lets hear what Nya … Nia … Nijj … Nigel has to say"

**Njal Stormcaller: **"It's 'Njal'. I have come under the requests of our rune priests, who in a drug-fuelled trance last Tuesday saw that my presence here would decide a great fate of the universe. I see now what they mean; my lord Russ has also grown tired of the Emperor's behaviour. He has lived a long life of war and death, and wishes to alter this to an equally long life of drink and women. Unfortunately this doesn't meet the Adeptus Terra's approval, who would rather see us butcher Eldar children. I don't wish to see my chapter on the Moral Event Horizon page of TV Tropes; it's bad characterisation, especially after all the crap we went through after the first war of Armageddon. We're the good guys-" _Every Thousand Son in the room coughs 'bullshit' into their fists. _"-I mean anti-heroic guys. We'd like to stay that way, and the Emperor's increasingly questionable actions is making that … tricky to say the least"

**Leman Russ: **_Throwing off his own robe. _"What Nigel's trying to say with too many bloody words, lad, is that on this occasion we see eye-to-eye … er … no offence. We'll join you in this crusade!"

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"Wait, how did they get in here without anyone noticing? They had face-concealing cloaks for the god's sake! Didn't that strike anyone as a little bit suspicious?"

**Lorgar: **_Throwing off his cloak. _"And I too will join you, brother. I will fight no more. I do not wish to see my children**** grow up in a universe choked by the shadow of our father. I fight this oppression … which makes my earlier claim of fighting no more a little redundant, I understand … but my point remains …"

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"Anyone else here want to remove their cloaks and make an impassioned speech about fighting the Imperium (which I thought is what most of us here had been doing these past ten thousand years anyway!)?"

_Silence._

**Ahriman, Former Exile of the Thousand Sons: **"Good. Gods-damned narrative-convenience-plot-device-crap-clothing …"

**Njal Stormcaller: **"You're just jealous because you don't have one"

_*And when dealing with psychic individuals, minds did, quite often, actually meet. _The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Psychic Pick-up Artists_ goes into more detail, but sufficed to say it's not mind rape if you think 'surprise' first. _

_**Surprisingly this is actually a compliment. By comparing Magnus' ego to a mere galaxy Taldeer was actually commenting on how well-grounded the Primarch usually is when compared to his brothers, whose egos are usually equivalent to much larger celestial phenomena than mere galaxies. _

_***The first PRIMARCHS plot arc. TL;DR version is thus: C'tan wanted to sell Games Workshop to a Japanese company, the Primarchs used the power of a time-travelling fish to stop them. Yes, I do realise that makes no sense as I typed it. That was the __**short**__ version._

_****Yeah he has kids. Long story._


	11. Chapter XI

"_The guys don't believe me when I tell them I'm dating a Callidus. They seem to think I'm making up a lousy excuse for why I keep waking up next to different women after a night out. If that were true why would I __**need**__ an excuse?" – Unknown_

**Vulkan: **"OK listen up boys, girls, those of ambiguous gender identity…"

**Corax: **"Why do you look at me when you say that?"

**Vulkan:** "Why indeed? Despite my brother here and his questionable choice in hair styles that have left him more gender-confused than a blind daemonette we are here at the bequest of our gloriously opinionated Emperor and his monolithic ego to help bail a couple of his best troops out of a situation that they appear to have walked right into. Lion, if you'd please?"

Vulkan stands back to allow Lion El'jonson room to approach the giant holographic projector set up in the centre of the conference room. Around him hundreds of ascending rows of Astartes sit watching the three Primarchs in well-disciplined silence. After the reaction Corax received when the Raven Guard Primarch first appeared no one has dared laugh, giggle, or indeed make any sound since lest they incur the wrath of the depressed Primarch and his new emo-style haircut.

**Lion El'jonson: **"At least four days ago, give or take (we're still a little iffy about how long it took to get here. Our Astropaths are trying to correlate our date with the system date but considering everyone seems to be dead that's proving tricky), our main incursion force into this sector, led by none other than the fame Ursarker Creed, were defeated by a cowardly Eldar ambush"

A hand rises from the audience.

**Lion El'jonson: **"Yes Azrael?"

**Azrael: **"Sorry to interrupt my lord Primarch, but it says here in the report files you gave us all that the Eldar 'came running forwards screaming loudly at the top of their lungs in the thousands directly towards the Imperial guns'. How's that an ambush?"

**Lion El'jonson: **_Is silent for a while, before he leans over and whispers to Vulkan. _"Who compiled the report?"

**Vulkan:** "Brother Ward, sir"

**Lion El'jonson: **"Ask him kindly not to do it again, would you?"

**Vulkan: **"Noted"

**Lion El'jonson: **_Standing up straight and smiling politely at Azrael. _"Yes … well … it appears our initial reports, which you hold in your hand, were incorrect. I can assure you that no Eldar worth his spirit stone would be caught **running** towards any kind of gun-line. We can only deduce from this that the foul xenos used their typical trickery to lure our fine commanders to their doom. Nothing else would make sense"

**Azrael: **"So this section describing Creed ordering his men to turn their backs to the Eldar, pull down their standard-issue combat trousers and bare their…"

**Lion El'jonson: **"Slanderous lies. All of it. Ignore the report files gentlemen and listen to me, for I am the bearer of the truth in this regard – stop laughing Corax before I cut that ridiculous mop of hair off"

**Corax: **"You can talk. What are you trying to pull with all that blonde crap coming out of your head? The grizzled heavy metal guitar player who refuses to acknowledge the genre is dead look?"

**Lion El'jonson: **"Nonsense. This was the style at the time on Caliban … and besides everyone knows you can't kill the metal*. Especially emo. What can you possible do? Throw depressing poetry at it?"

**Corax: **"Says the man with a sword that sings 'Crawling' every time he unsheaths it"

**Lion El'jonson: **"It doesn't do that any more; for some reason it's now obsessed with 'The Catalyst' instead. Keeps trying to hum the main beat, makes it sound like it's having an epileptic fit"

**Vulkan: **"Have we quite finished hijacking the conversation for our own ends. Do remember we're currently standing in front of a large audience containing most of our respective chapters, oh and an Inquisitor..."

**Inquisitor Badass: **"Don't mind me. Just sitting here being ominous"

**Vulkan: **"... yes … quite. Anyway, TL-semi-colon-DLTTFP** the Eldar are currently holding out top Guard generals as hostages and demanding that we halt our current campaign in what they claim is their rightful territory" _General laughter as everyone enjoys the old joke that alien races could believe they have the right to hold territory anywhere. _"We're of course here to remind them that this doesn't hold true in any universe, fan-written or otherwise. I believe standard Astartes tactics should be fine here. No need diverging from the standard norm, after all they do have prescient generals on their side. If they can see anything coming there's no point in developing a clever battle strategy, is there?"

_A general murmur of agreement rises from the audience. _

**Vulkan: **"I want everyone in their drop-pods at the commencement of the mission. Anyone not with their appointed battle squads when the counter hits zero will be left behind and will have to do the laundry for when everyone gets back, understood?" _More murmurs. _"Excellent. Corax, would you be so kind as to describe the topographical layout of the mission zone?"

**Corax: **"... what?"

**Vulkan: **"Where all the squishy eldar are currently hiding"

**Corax: **"... they're not really hiding. They're kind of standing there in plain sight. With titans. You can't really hide titans"

**Vulkan: **"Just describe what we'll be shooting up, please?"

**Corax: **"Oh … right. Well … eldar … stuff. Titans as well. Eldar titans. So they'll be running around the place being very hard to hit. Shoot where you think they'll be, not where they currently are, as where they currently are will not be where you think they'll be, and where you think they'll be won't be where they currently are. Understood?"

_Silence._

**Lion El'jonson: **"We're packing vortex grenades"

_Huge cheer erupts from the audience. _

**Vulkan: **_Grinning. _"Gentlemen, to your drop-pods please. We have squishy eldar to squish and squishy guard to save. It's going to be a good day for the Space Marines"

**= P = R = I = M = A = R = C = H = S =**

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"Today will be a good day for the Eldar!" _Frowns and turns to the seer standing beside him. _"Why did you chuckle when I said that?"

**Iyanna Arienal: **_Composing herself. _"Oh I do apologise. I just foresaw the dramatic irony in what you just said. It was mildly amusing"

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"Yes … anyway … to rephrase what I just said for the convenience of the reader: the mon'keigh are approaching in their blasted space craft with those so-called 'elite' of their empire, the Space Marines. We have more than enough starcannons in our possession to make them cry like little girls, but it falls to the majority of us to keep those cannons alive. Especially since most of them are equipped on the Vypers of my wild host. You know how skimmers haven't been the same since the good old days of 4th edition? Well we need to keep those AV10 beauties flying. Be loud, be noisy, insult their mothers. Whatever it takes to keep the mon'keigh focused on **you** and not on the flying glass spears of Khaine. Understood?"

_The audience of the room, an assemblage of the best minds, strategic geniuses, and warriors of the eldar currently occupying the world, all nod in silent unison. _

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"Excellent. Arienal, would you like to take this next part?"

**Iyanna Arienal: **_Swapping places with Nuadhu to stand in the literal spotlight. _"The mon'keigh will use their standard tactic of abusing the first turn deep striking capabilities of their drop pods. They will most likely 'borrow' the rules for Land Raiders from their brethren the Blood Angels to allow them to deep strike their lumbering behemoths directly alongside the rest of their forces. These Land Raiders will most likely be of the Redeemer pattern, and be containing Tactical Dreadnought-users with thunder hammers and storm shields. In other words; this will be a cookie-cutter Space Marine list. However, be on the lookout for any bursts of invention the three Primarchs we know are aboard may possess"

_A hand rises from the audience. _

**Iyanna Arienal: **"Yes, Exarch?"

**Random Exarch Who Is Not Important To The Plot: **"I have a question about paragraph c, subsection a, sentence twelve, of chapter fourteen, of stage twenty-seven of the plan. When you say 'circulate known threats utilising cover as maximum advantage to enemy counter-attack' which way should we circulate, clockwise or anticlockwise?"

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"Whatever seems most advantageous in the current situation. Or, failing that, roll a dice"

**Iyanna Arienal: **"Die"

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"What?"

**Iyanna Arienal: **"The singular of 'dice' is 'a die'"

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"Oh whatever. Any more questions?"

**Another Random Exarch Who Is Not Important To The Plot: **"When will lunch be served?"

**Iyanna Arienal: **"When the culinary aspect chiefs tell us. Well … if that wraps everything up … I guess meeting is adjourned?"

_As everyone begins to slowly filter out of the grand meeting room, Nuadhu moves to where Iyanna stands while pretending to be completely casual about the whole thing._

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"So … doing anything before the battle begins?"

**Iyanna Arienal: **"Why yes. Not having sex with you" _And with that said, she walks off._

**Nuadhu, the Fireheart: **"Damn … what am I supposed to do now?"

*An established and proven scientific fact. Metal will never die. It's far too awesome for that.

**Too Long; Didn't Listen To Those Fething Primarchs


	12. Chapter XII

_Thousand of years before the plot device mere mortals refer to as the Emperor sat up one morning and decided to conquer the galaxy Humanity was enjoying somewhat of a golden age. In fact this period of history, still roughly sketched out on the back of a used napkin after Alan Merrett and Rick Priestly ordered pizza in-office one evening, is sometimes referred to by the few historians of the Imperium as The Golden Age. (Not to be confused with the Golden Age of Technology, which is the Dark Age of Technology for those who know how to switch their mobile on without saying a fourteen minute prayer beforehand.) During this grand age of exploration mankind spread across the stars like spilt wine on a tablecloth, colonising thousands of planets, organising grand complex political machinations, and getting high on worm crap … possibly. Either that or I'm getting confused with _Dune_ again*. One such planet colonised during this time was a small world, fourth from its sun, that the inhabitants called Blessing. Fast-forward several thousand years and one Adeptus Terra exploration later Blessing became known, due to the general laziness of Imperial planetographers, as Rndum. Ten thousand years of continuous petitions have not altered this fact**._

**Rndum Immigrations Control Adept: **"Anything to declare?"

**Ferrus Manus: **_Blinks in surprise. _"I'm sorry … do you not know who I am?"

**Rndum Immigrations Control Adept: **_Waves his passport in front of him. _"I can read. Anything to declare Mr Manus?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Er … saving the Imperium … business as usual"

**Rndum Immigrations Control Adept: **"I'll put you down under business trip then. Be aware that only extends you to a six month stay. Any longer requires application for Rndum citizenship. Understand?"

**Ferrus Manus: **_Opens his mouth to say something sarcastic, then thinks better of it. _"Yes … I understand"

**Rndum Immigrations Control Adept: **_Stamps the passport and hands it back to Ferrus. _"Welcome to Rndum. Enjoy your stay"

**Ferrus Manus: **_He gives in to the sarcasm. _"I'm sure I will"

Ferrus moves through immigrations into the arrival lounge proper. There he finds Asdrubael Vect, Lileath Hesperax, Urien Rakarth, and DECAPITATOR waiting for him at the CFT (Catachan Fried Toads, the Imperium's most popular fast food chain).

**Ferrus Manus: **"OK … how the **hell** did you guys get through customs? You're not really making much of an effort to be inconspicuous here, you realise?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **Slurping down an extra large cola while the remains of his crispy fried toad ribs grow cold in the polystyrene tray. "What do you mean? I'm wearing my best inconspicuous gear!"

**Ferrus Manus: **"An 'I Heart The Emperor' t-shirt?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"What? Not devoted enough? I've got a Buddy Emperor one if that'll look better. How much is the Creed embraced around here? Don't see many shrines by the tills, not much flagellation going on either … look at those girls over there; look what they're wearing. Wouldn't get away with that in Commorragh … barely any flesh on display!"

**Lelith Hesperax: **"Disgusting. Not even a midriff. When I was their age there wasn't a part of my body that I hadn't shown off in public"

**Ferrus Manus: **Discovers his mouth has been hanging open during that exchange. "They're **twelve years old!** At the **least!**"

The Dark Eldar look at him in confusion.

**Lelith Hesperax: **"And?"

**Ferrus Manus:** Sighing. "Forget I spoke. My point remains, however: loose the ridiculous garb. Vect; get rid of the t-shirt, it just screams ignorant tourist from an alien empire, get something plain and unassuming like a polo shirt – don't give me that look, I hate them too but the point is so does everyone else with a heartbeat so **no one will look at you** – and a hat to cover those pointy ears. Lelith; wear more clothes. Full stop. Urien; get that guy's face off your face before someone notices. Yes I know underneath those gorgeous features you stoke you're really an ugly son of a bitch but we're not here to pick up chicks. Finally … DECAPITATOR … you can stay as you are. That's a decent outfit you've got there. Where did you find it?"

**DECAPITATOR: **"Primark"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Figures. OK … we'll meet back here in a time-skip"

Fifteen minutes later.

**Ferrus Manus: **"Much better!"

**Lelith Hesperax: **Staring at herself in disgust. "I feel so … **conservative**. Can I at least lower the neckline below my neck?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Then it ceases to be a neckline and becomes more of a breastline, does it not?"

**Lelith Hesperax: **"I think that's the point"

**Ferrus Manus: **"That may be but I'm afraid the censors won't allow suggestive sexuality in our war porn fiction"

**Lelith Hesperax: **"So we can happily describe the myriad ways one living being can brutally, sadistically, and coldly end the life of another living being, but we can't have any mention of a act of loving physical intimacy between two consensual adult beings simply wishing to enjoy the sensations of each other's bodies?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Basically yes"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"I'd like to chip in here and put forward two points if I may?" The others look at him hesitantly, then eventually nod not quite knowing what they will be unleashing here. "Firstly; that's a sorry indication of your species if you consider physical violence a lesser evil than sex. You would quite happily let our children play with models decorated with the decapitated skulls of other beings but cry for censorship over the bared breasts of a elf? Why indeed! Let us shun those evil nipples and bring forth the family-friendly exposed intestines and bloody giblets! What morals does that teach the successive generation? Do you not think you have this backwards? Make love not war!"

Silence.

**Ferrus Manus: **"Have you quite finished channelling the author for yet another of his ill-disguised and ultimately pointless rants?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **Blinks. "I think I am. Whoa … that was scary. You don't think an Author Filibuster is going to happen to you … until it does. Then you wonder where all the words came from …"

**Urien Rakarth: **"You said you had two points?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"I just wondered why the consenting bodies had to be adult, that was all"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Now see **this** is why we don't ask Vect to clarify his opinions … this is also why I should stop hanging around with Kabalite Eldar … how did this all happen?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"We could look back through the archives of PRIMARCHS to find out if you want"

**Ferrus Manus: **"I'd rather not. There's more bad writing and inconsistencies there than the average BL section at Waterstones. Look lets just find Pie May and get this story arc over and done with so I can get back to fragging my boys at Counter-Strike"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"You still play that game?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"That's not the point. The point is: where is Pie May? I hate to remind people how large planets can be (most sci-fi writers forget as it is) but there's over fourteen thousand major cities on this world and over a million smaller settlements in the more habitable areas of the continents. If he's camped out in the wilderness of the uninhabited parts of this world we're additionally screwed. That's a lot of ground to cover without an address"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Ah … yes … I was hoping that narrative convenience would make this a 'small world' in the more literal sense. He apparently keeps moving from place to place, so tracking down where he's currently staying might be tricky"

**Ferrus Manus: **"So you brought me to this world to find a man with no real idea of how to accomplish that?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Relax, I'll think of something. I always do"

**Ferrus Manus:** Noticing crowds gathering nearby, stands up to see over everyone's head then quickly sits back down again. "You might want to think of something now"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Why? What's happening?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Dorn's here with Khan and by the looks of it quite a few of their drinking buddies. They can't see me here; I'm supposed to be in a different segmentum following dad's orders. They **especially **can't see me with you guys! Khan will flip a lid! He might actually say something! He hates you guys!"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Really? I thought he enjoyed the gladiatorial combat? We made him a **star**! Damn celebrities thinking they don't need their managers when they make it … OK lets think"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Hurry they're getting closer!"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"What this scene needs … is a jump cut!"

= P = R = I = M = A = R = C = H = S =

**Asdrubael Vect: **"See? Sorted"

**Ferrus Manus: **"But people are only going to wonder how we got from a spaceport to this deserted back alley without anyone noticing us, **especially** my brothers and their genetically engineered soldiers"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Let them wonder. We've got more important things to do. Like finding irate small questionably oriental teachers"

**Ferrus Manus: **"And you wonder why the Plot Hole tried to eat us all …"

_*It's common knowledge that Frank Herbert ripped off Games Workshop, after all._

_**They did try. However it was pointed out to them, via the usual Imperial method of boltgun rounds to the face, that disregarding Adeptus naming conventions was disregarding the will of the Emperor. Bad things happen that way._


	13. Chapter XIII

"If I move that fleet there, tell that governor there that life would be better without the Arbites hanging around, whisper sweet nothings in the ear of that adept that his boss at the laser defence facility is an ignorant fool and that he should do that job, and suggest the Chapter Master of the neighbouring Silver Skulls that the governor of his world thinks he's an ignorant pig, while simultaneously influencing the minors on the moon above to rise up against their Astartes overlords, I can TOTALLY make myself a SWEET peanut butter sandwich!" – Tzeentch

"_How the HELL are ANY of those events RELATED?" – Magnus_

**Rogal Dorn: **"J; you did lock the Thunderhawk after we left right?"

_Jaghatai Khan stares at his brother (penetratingly (… er … I guess that Running Gag makes sense if you've actually been running with it)) as they stand before the elected (by gunpoint) government of Rndm. As way of an answer he raises a single eyebrow, slowly and menacingly. _

_(On a not entirely unrelated note it's surprising at how gracious a self-imposed military host can be when they're met with guns and soldiers larger than they are. The Astartes have not run out of tea and biscuits since they arrived (except Lysander, who prefers coffee).)_

**Rogal Dorn: **"A good point; that was a stupid question. I see you still haven't been offered a speaking contract since PRIMARCHS began" _Turns to regard the 'governor' (in title only) of Rndm. _"You realise why we're here?"

**The Governor: **_Shrugs. _"Not really"

**Rogal Dorn: **"That's disappointing. I'd expect a military man like yourself to always be aware of the facts surrounding him. Like myself. I'm always aware of the facts, am I not, Lysander?"

**Lysander: **_Standing behind his Primarch, a little to the right, with a rod up his backside so firm you could cut diamonds on it. _"You are indeed, my lord"

**Rogal Dorn: **"Except you; I was quite sure you were dead after that little involvement with the sons of Perturabo"

**Lysander: **"That was an unfortunate case of retroactive continuity, my lord"

**Rogal Dorn: **_He makes a face. _"Oh yes. Nasty things retroactive continuities. Ever suffered from one, governor?"

**The Governor: **"Can't say I have. Is this important? I didn't get a chance to see the script so I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to say here"

**Rogal Dorn: **"You don't have a script, you're not important enough to have a character. Like Lysander, is that not right?"

**Lysander: **"Quite so, my lord. I haven't have a personality since third edition"

**Rogal Dorn: **"The mark of a good solider is one who obeys without question. I find characterisation a nasty habit to get into, personally. If I had a choice I wouldn't have one. Don't you agree Lysander?"

**Lysander: **"Definitely, my lord. It's a weakness you have to bare. Could be worse, thought ..."

**Rogal Dorn: **"Oh? How so?"

**Lysander: **"Could be Guilliman, my lord"

**Rogal Dorn: **"Indeed. Far too much personality, that man. Will only end him in trouble. Like that assassination the last arc. Could have avoided that quite easily if he wasn't a main character. See what I'm trying to say, governor?"

**The Governor: **_Speaking slowly, as a man who knows one wrong word and he could end up as power armour decoration … or was that the traitor marines? The governor isn't too sure, and doesn't want to test his luck. _"I do indeed, my lord. So … what can I do for two such senior members of the Council of Terra?"

**Rogal Dorn: **"Oh bugger, I knew there was something we forgot! J, could you nip back to the Thunderhawk and get me those documents we were supposed to bring here?"

_Jaghatai Khan stares at his brother (penetratingly) with mild (penetrating) disapproval. With a sigh (a penetrating one at that) he turns around and gestures for his White Scar bodyguard to follow him (one cannot be too careful. One does need one's command squad to ward off eager fans looking for an autograph after all …)._

_After they leave Rogal Dorn turns around to the governor and smiles. Before retrieving his bolt gun, aiming it over his shoulder without so much as turning his head, and blow Lysander's brains out the back all across his terminator armour._

**Rogal Dorn: **"Let that be a lesson to you; helmets exist for a reason".

**The Governor: **_Recoiling back into his seat in horror. _"What … what have you done? Who are you? What do you want?"

**Rogal Dorn?: **"My word, could you fit more exclamation and question marks into those three questions? It's like reading a _White Dwarf_ article" _He laughs at his own joke. It's a deep laugh, like one who has laughed often and frequently. Always at someone else though. As he approaches the end of the laugh he begins breathing in with each sound, creating an effect not unlike a jackal howling. Eventually he finishes and wipes a single tear away from his eye. _"Oh my … sorry about that. But it's all so fucking hysterical, don't you agree?"

**The Governor: **_Trying to find new areas in his chair to disappear into. _"Should I?"

**Rogal Dorn?: **"Yes you should … my dear governor, what ever is the matter?" _He leans in closer, his face changing from the stoic Rogal Dorn to a gold-skinned manic with a grin that splits his face from ear to ear. _"Why … so …"

**The Governor: **_Shifting into a different form himself, pulls out a strange gun and holds it to the gold-skinned man's head. _"Are we really going to stoop so low as to quote _The Dark Knight_?"

**The Deceiver: **"I quite like the film. Not as good as _Inception_, but then what is? How long have you been Alpharius, just out of interest?"

**Alpharius: **"The last year. I've been planning ahead, as always"

**The Deceiver: **"A true graduate of the David Xanatos Scholarship for Magnificent Bastardry"

**Alpharius: **"With honours, I'll have you know"

**The Deceiver: **"Indeed. What's this?" _He taps the gun. _"Out of interest"

**Alpharius: **"A little something I had some of my boys back in the Empire* cook up based on stolen Eldar distortion technology. It's a miniature wraithcannon … or should that be wraithpistol? Not the most original name, I'll admit, but then considering the average naming conventions of this universe I doubt anyone would notice"

**The Deceiver: **"Oh dear, are you threatening to shove a miniature warp vortex into my head? You do understand what the warp does to my kind?"

**Alpharius: **"You're somewhat allergic to it, so I've been told. To be honest I doubt I'll do much damage with a single pistol when the Eldar spent decades building moon-sized battle stations with the sole purpose of taking your lot out the picture"

**The Deceiver: **"And look what happened with that; union strikes resulted in them being understaffed and denied the maintenance they deserved. Several millennia down the line, and one small apocalypse later for the Eldar, and they're just lying around like space trash for some enterprising Chaos warlord to snap them up and stick on his trophy rack … not that I believe that's possible, but with a man like Ezekyle Abaddon his ego alone is large enough to serve as a make-shift mantelpiece to place a Blackstone Fortress trophy upon"

**Alpharius: **"Yeah, well Abaddon won't be sticking anything on his mantelpiece any time soon. Have you not heard? Horus killed him"

**The Deceiver: **"I did hear. Was that your doing? Or mine? Or Tzeentch's? Or Cegorach's? Or one of the farseer's? Or the Inquisition? Or … do you get the feeling there's too many chess masters in this universe?"

**Alpharius: **"Fearing a thirty xanatos pile-up? You blatantly know I'm going to come out on top"

**The Deceiver: **"Don't get too cocky. You think that gun of yours works?"

**Alpharius: **"Lets find out shall we?" _He pulls the trigger. A strange little beep sounds and a small message flashes across the side of the gun._

WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT THE GOD YOU'RE CURRENTLY POINTING THIS GUN AT PAID US BETTER – WITH REGARDS, YOUR RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT TEAM

**Alpharius: **"Ah … touché"

_The Deceiver flicks a wrist and Alpharius is thrown backwards off his chair to impact hard against the transparaplasteel wall (and try saying that seven times while drunk). As the clear metal begins to envelop him Alpharius reaches into a pocket to press a small communications device he has been carrying around with him all day. _

**Alpharius: **"Almost ..." _He whispers as the material covers his face. _

_The room begins to vibrate as a huge stocky craft flies up to hover just in front of the window. Several large gatling guns are lowered and begin firing in a circle around Alpharius as he hangs suspended inside the window. The plasteel-piercing bullets make short work and the huge section falls backwards to plummet towards the streets below. A telekinesis field halts gravity's natural work and Alpharius is gently brought into the open cargo bay suspended below as the gatling guns now turn their attention towards the C'tan._

**The Deceiver: **"Bloody hell!" _He exclaims as he bends reality around him, forcing the bullets to ignore the laws of physics and fly in circles around him. After he gathers a significant amount he flings them back at the craft to bounce harmlessly off the energy field around it. _"Now that's not fair!"

_A top hatch on the craft pops open, and a strangely nostalgic bearded face rises up to grin at the god. _

**Squat Pilot: **"Na then. Wat be yer problem laddie? Canna take loosing? Well … be seeing yer aroond!"

_With that (badly) said, the pilot disappears and the craft takes off leaving the Deceiver to fume in the ruined office of the governor. _

**The Deceiver: **"Dammit!"

_The door opens behind him, and Jaghatai Khan and his White Scars burst in. Their faces fall as they see the carnage, then rise to anger (the typical space marine kind that makes them look like they're suffering a crippling bout of diarrhoea) as they see the Deceiver standing in the middle of the carnage._

**Jaghatai Khan: **_penetrating gaze!_

**The Deceiver: **"Oh shut up"

_He flicks his wrist, and the tower explodes._

_*That would be the Tau Empire, which Alpharius still owns._


	14. Chapter XIV

* P * R * I * M * A * R * C * H * S *

_**Now with 50% more GrimDark TM!**_

The Story So Far …

_Having returned from narrative exile by the power of the Plot Hole and its minions the Primarchs have wasted no time in returning a universe that has been introduced to stable peace back to engulfing war in the quest for revenge. By the orders of the colossal ego that mere mortals know as the GOD EMPEROR OF MANKIND the loyalist Space Marine chapters are spearheading a galaxy-spanning crusade to seek out the Plot Hole and its followers. Meanwhile Horus has returned to claim the title of Warmaster of the traitor hordes and has initiated a vengeful crusade of his own against the Plot Hole (while simultaneously continuing to find a way to get that nice comfy chair his dad owns). _

_Somewhere in space hangs the great vessel _Vengeful Spirit III _(the Establishment still refuses to comment on the fates of the first two, but leaked documents hint at an embarrassing incident featuring double-parking and letting Play Mate of the Millennium drive …), waiting for the arrival of a vast host of Chaos all under the command of newly-returned Warmaster Horus. _

_Deep within the bowels of the vessel, hidden behind several doors marked 'Sewage Containment System, wear appropriate Marks of Chaos before entering', several large glass containers filled with foul fluids stand along one wall. Several are empty, but one contains a familiar figure, naked (a horrible thought) save for one conveniently placed hazard warning sign (to save our sanity). A hunched form, back sprouting hundreds of mechanical and biomechanical arms, walks up to the canister and taps on the glass._

**Ezekyle Abaddon, Warmaster of Chaos, The Despoiler, Destroyer of Worlds, Cosmopoliton's No. 2 Most Eligible Bachelor 999.M41: **_Opening his eyes and staring out through the glass. He opens his mouth to speak and gargles something incomprehensible._

**Urien Rakarth, Master Homunculus, Cosmopoliton's No. 1 Greatest Plastic Surgeon: **"Sorry, what?"

The Master Homunculus stares at the Despoiler with a wide grin on his face (admittedly this is partly due to the fact that the skin around his mouth has been removed and stapled back past his cheeks, but as narrative descriptions go it's apt) as the various limbs on the … thing … on his back tidy up the equipment scattered around the sterile room, polish the glass, and tackle a fiendishly evil sudoku puzzle.

_Hold on a moment … didn't I leave you on Rndm?_

**Urien Rakarth: **_Stares at the camera. _"What are you talking about? I was never on Rndm"

I'm certain you were … unless you lot have been re-writing my work again in my absence, like the time you retroactively deleted over a hundred chapters. I'm still miffed about that, by the way ...

**Urien Rakarth: **"Oh, my heart bleeds ..." _Looks down at what he holds in his hand. _"Oh … it is bleeding. Luckily it's not **my **heart … that would be unfortunate. Thankfully I keep spares in my haversack … it's a Heward's, don't you know?" _Realises he's going off an a tangent. _"But I digress; do keep track of who's pretending to be who. It helps the rest of us stumble through this diabolical mess of a narrative"

_What? Alpharius! I'm going to kill that little sod – he's supposed to be pretending to be someone else!_

**Urien Rakarth: **_Turns back to regard Abaddon-in-a-tube. _"Can you hear me in there?"

Abaddon raises a single finger in Urien's direction.

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_More gargling._

**Urien Rakarth: **"Sorry, speak up; I'm having a hard time hearing you out here over the sound of how awesome I am"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_One single gargle, and another raised finger._

**Urien Rakarth: **"Seriously, behold my newly retroactively-installed powers! Witness as I bring life to the dead! Horus did slay you and use your vital bodily fluids to pen letters to his brothers … well … only one type of fluid unfortunately … the others were wasted … what I could have done with that **other** important fluid ..."

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_A rather shocked gargle._

**Urien Rakarth: **_A dismissal wave of one of his … 'spare' hands? _"Not that fluid. I was talking about spinal fluids you moron. But I digress. I must apologise, though; I'm still rather new to this 'resurrection' process. It's only just been **mentioned** and I still have no idea how it exactly works" _One of his hands holds up a small collection of papers. _"According to the press release booklet I can bring someone back from the dead even if the only piece that remains of them is there hand. Luckily for the both of us Horus left more of you after his little … 'temper tantrum' for the process. Otherwise … well I'm sure you can use your imagination …"

_Abaddon makes a rocking motion with a partly-clenched fist._

**Urien Rakarth: **"I'll take that as a 'yes' then" _Retrieves a clipboard from his … backpack … thing … _"Are you experiencing any pain, stiffness of limbs, shortness of breath, or erectile dysfunction?"

Abaddon raises a single eyebrow this time as the finger changes direction to point at his mouth.

**Urien Rakarth: **"Oh you can talk, the liquid can transmit narrative-important sound"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_Takes a gulp of the liquid, then after a few practice sounds replies to the Eldar's question. _"No, no, I'm breathing piss-water if that counts, and hardly; this is the first time I've seen my dick in over ten thousand years. I've not set foot out of my tactical dreadnought armour since Horus lost his bet"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Bet?"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_Grins wildly. _"Who would win in a fight between him and the Big E. I won big that day; got myself his pimped-out lightning claw and the whole damn Legion"

**Urien Rakarth: **"And now he's back and already explaining the chain of command to you by slitting your throat and draining your blood to write a few letters of mild authority to the other traitor Primarchs … how very poetic. Almost Kabalite in thinking there; I do approve"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Don't use that word again"

**Urien Rakarth: **"… which one? I used a lot of words in those two sentences"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Traitor. I am not, have never been, and will never be. I have stayed true to my beliefs from the start. The small fact that my opinions may have differed from the galaxy-spanning empire that created me and the egotistical Machiavellian nut who runs the show is a small and minor issue"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Ah but history is written by the winners"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Sorry, must have missed the memo that said we lost. The battle for Terra was merely a setback!"

Speaking of setbacks …

**Kael'thas Sunstrider: **_Leaping into the picture. _"Magister's Terrace was merely a-"

_Oh fuck off. THE MEME'S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!_

**Kael'thas Sunstrider: **_Sulking, he wanders off-screen muttering to himself. _"No body loves me anymore … not since those damned Blood Princes stole my catchphrase … and now **Hogger**'s using it … fucking gnoll ..."

_I apologise about that interruption. And now we resume our usual service:_

**Urien Rakarth: **"GAH!" _Or something like that, as a chainsaw mace is shoved through his head. The rest of the Haemonculus' body stays standing for several seconds before it realises it should be dead. After performing a death throe worthy of a Shakespearean actor (miming, of course, and with a lot more limbs) the body falls to the ground and is still. _

_Into the scene walks Garviel Loken, all-round Mary Sue of the Sons of Horus and eternal do-gooder of insufferable intent. _

**Garviel Loken: **"What? That's unfair! I demand and un-biased narrative introduction! I will not have this anti-_Horus Heresy_ author continue to sprout false character descriptions of me! Get me Dan Abnett on the line now! And a lawyer!" _He blinks. _"On second thoughts forget the lawyer and bring me a double-shot mocha latte with extra chocolate and a cream flake. I want something to drink while I dispense some home-brew justice"

Several space marines dressed in power armour bearing the colours of the Luna Wolves have accompanied Loken into the room. One nods in response to the request and leaves, while the other three stand behind Loken and stare up at Abaddon with barely concealed contempt.

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Maybe you didn't get the memo Loken; you're supposed to be dead. Horus drained all the blood in your body to write a few letters to his brothers. Also, what's with the colours? Feeling a little nostalgic for the days when we danced for the Emperor, polished his shoes, and told him how clever he was every time he cracked a joke?"

**Garviel Loken: **"Maybe **you** didn't get the memo. Horus is gone, Ezekyle. We've taken care of that egotistical bastard. It's a shame you had to go take advantage of new background fiction and get yourself signed up for a little Haemonculi resurrection insurance … but hey … I get to kill you … finally! And for the record the Emperor is fething **hilarious!**"

_**GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND!: **__"Damn straight I am!"_

_Shut up! This chapter already has enough interruptions from people not supposed to be in it, including myself!_

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_Like a pro he doesn't seem phased at all and delivers his lines without a pause. _"Hardly" _Punches his hand through the glass and pushes his fingers up through the bottom of Loken's jaw. _"You always talked too much" _With a simple jerk of his arm he pulls off Loken's jaw, tongue clenched between his fingers. _"Good job I asked for a canister **without** astartes-proof glass"

**Garviel Loken: **"Uuu rrrherd! Iii haww!" _Or something like that. You try talking without a tongue or lower jaw and tell me how it sounds! Then try and write it __**phonetically!**_

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_Stepping through the glass as the liquid contents pour out around him. _"Yeah … no idea what you're saying …" _Punches through Loken's chest with both hands and pulls out two beating hearts. As Loken's body collapses to the ground Abaddon squeezes the muscles between his fingers and flashes a rictus grin at the shocked Luna Wolves. _"All right you cunts, who's up first?"

**TO BE CONTINUED ...**


	15. Chapter XV

* P * R * I * M * A * R * C * H * S *

_**Brought To You By The 'Save The Narvhals Society'**_

The Story So Far …

_Having returned from narrative exile by the power of the Plot Hole and its minions the Primarchs have wasted no time in returning a universe that has been introduced to stable peace back to engulfing war in the quest for revenge. By the orders of the colossal ego that mere mortals know as the GOD EMPEROR OF MANKIND the loyalist Space Marine chapters are spearheading a galaxy-spanning crusade to seek out the Plot Hole and its followers. Meanwhile Horus has returned to claim the title of Warmaster of the traitor hordes and has initiated a vengeful crusade of his own against the Plot Hole (while simultaneously continuing to find a way to get that nice comfy chair his dad owns). _

_Having been brought back to life by the narratively new powers of reincarnation gifted to master Haemonculus Urien Rakarth, Abaddon the Despoiler discovers mutiny is in the ranks. Led by a disgruntled Garviel Loken, a contingent of the Black Legion, once again calling themselves the Luna Wolves, have succeeded in taking over the _Vengeful Spirit III. _As for the Arch Warmaster Horus, his fate is so far unknown ..._

**Horus: **"Hey guys, have I missed anything?"

_... not amymore, it seems. Way to kill the dramatic tension, dumbass._

**Horus: **"Not my fault you can't write. Anyway, what the hell's going on? I go take a Primarch-sized dump and chill out reading my favourite monthly magazine-"

White Dwarf?

**Horus: **"Don't be silly. _Badass Monthly*_ actually. But I digress: what is this?"

_We should pull back the camera from a close up on Horus' bald mug and view the scene which he is commenting about; a rather typical 40K-esque room full of skulls. Skulls with skin attached, but the bodies placed elsewhere. There's blood too, a lot of blood. All over the place. Frankly it's Eli Roth's wet dream._

_In addition to the gory mess there stands a large number of marine in hastily painted light grey armour (in fact on quite a few of them you can see the original black peeking up between the coats of paint). At the head of them stands Torik Torgaddon, looking somewhat irritated with the whole situation._

**Tarik Torgaddon: **"Imperial Truth dammit! Where's a plot-convenient magic sword when you need one? Will you ever **die?**"

**Horus: **_Finally aware of the various plasma, bolter, and melta marks on his armour, stares at each one in mild annoyance. _"Damn ... and I just had this armour re-blessed and pacified. As I hate killing people for sensible reasons can we all agree I'm going to end your pitiful lives over the state of my armour and not because of this foolish mutany. Yes?"

**Tarik Torgaddon: **"No. Vortex. Grenade. To the face"

**Horus: **"Here? On the bridge of this ship? You're insane! Do you know what-"

_Cue explosions. And scene transition ..._

* P * R * I * M * A * R * C * H * S *

_We shift our focus back to Ezekyle Abaddon, having freshly been brought back to life and now finding himself both naked and covered in blood. Someone else's, thankfully. _

**Urien Rakarth: **_Getting to his feet. _"Well that hurt"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"How are you still alive?"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Regeneration"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"New power?"

**Urien Rakarth: **"As the plot demands, no. We have codex creep to thank for this one"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Why does everyone else get new powers and I always end up losing some?"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Because it's a well known fact that Games Workshop is terrified that if they should ever pay Chaos the justice it deserves Michael Moorcock will complete his ascension into the Eternal Champion and come knocking at their door to discuss the proper ownership of the Chaos Star"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Really?"

_pause_

**Urien Rakarth: **"Nah. Just kidding with you. Why would they fear a daemonically ascended author? Those IP Ninjas of theirs pack a whallop with those copyright shurikens"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Erm ... yes ... quite. Can we focus now on the matter at hand? We have dissention in the ranks"

**Urien Rakarth: **"I thought that was morning coffee for you Chaos worshippers"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"No that's a good blood sacrifice. Preferably virginial, but the Gods are never too fussy in that regard. Especially Slaanesh; she likes them experienced"

**Urien Rakarth: **"How delightful"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Quite" _looks down at himself _"Hmm ... I'm going to need some clothes"

**Urien Rakarth: **"If only Lord Vect were here now ..."

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Well thank goodness he isn't. There are many things I am willing to endure in your typical quest of galactic domination and vengeance against a superior godlike foe ... but that isn't one of them. So long as Vect keeps it in his barbed armour I'm a happy Despoiler of Worlds"

**Urien Rakarth: **"That was more detail than we needed. Do I sense possible UST?"

_silence_

**Urien Rakarth: **"I'll take that as a no"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Quite. Back to the matter at hand ..." _he clicks his fingers_

_The floor shifts and turns as the very fabric of reality warps itself to accomodate the huge suit of barbed tactical dreadnought armour rising from the floor. It stops a foot in the air as the metal reforms underneath it, masking the passage of the unholy suit as if it had always been there floating before the two_

**Urien Rakarth: **"Nice. Can you summon something for me? Gnarkskin doesn't offer much protection against your average Astartes chainsaw"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"No" _steps forwards and is seemingly swallowed up by the armour. His head appears between those massive and completely improbably shoulder pads as the topnot appears from nowhere _"Now if you'll excuse me, I have vengeance to indulge in"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Need I point out that that I have also a cause to discover the motives of these rebels and dispose of them in unecessarily violent ways? They did kill me after all"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"You got better"

**Urien Rakarth: **"A minor issue. Don't get in the way of me and cruel and unusual torture. You wouldn't like that"

_another moment of awkward silence, during which Urien clicks the various biomechanical apparatus that extend from the ... thing ... on his back_

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"That regeneration of yours could come in handy"

**Urien Rakarth: **"It could"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"As a meatshield"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Not what I was thinking about but that will suffice. Shall we move?"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **_summons forth Drach'nyen from the aether _"Any suggestions?"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Yes. Lead the way. I can't remember how I got here"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"Why were you asked to be my doctor again?"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Because everyone else has a sense of self-preservation?"

**Ezekyle Abaddon: **"I can't imagine why I would inspire such emotions in people"

_suddenly, from nowhere, a GW IP Ninja appears!_

**GW IP Ninja: **_in bad dubbing _"Silence! We have report that you mentioned He Who Must Not Be Named earlier in this script! Prepare to meet copyright shuriken to the face!"

_Abaddon casually swipes with his sword, cutting through the ninja in a mess of gore and warp sparks_

**GW IP Ninja: **"Gah! My precious vital organs! My precious soul!"

_The corpse of the ninja falls to the floor. Drach'nyen burbs loudly_

**Urien Rakarth: **"No. I have no idea why people would think that"

TO BE CONTINUED ...

*Fun fact: _Badass Monthly _is the only magazine not printed on material substences like paper, but sheer awesomeness. This grants the magazine the unfortunate side effect of being highly combustable and prone to exploding at the slightest provocation. Its annual readership does not mind this much, as explosions happen to them regularly anyway and most have learnt the simple art of walking away from such occurances in stylish slow motion.


	16. Chapter XVI

* P * R * I * M * A * R * C * H * S *

We Support Our Future Gretchin Overlords

The Story So Far …

In their pursuit of the rogue Eldar Farseer, Eldrad Ulthran, Ferrus Manus and Asdrubael Vect (plus 'friends' of the haven't-back-stabbed-you-yet variety) arrive on the Imperial world of Rndm seeking the legendary Pie May. So invaluable was his great knowledge and weighty advice-

**Alpharius: **_coughs _"Bullshit" _coughs_

_Such was his __**amazing**__ and __**almighty**__ wisdom that without his help the Primarchs would never have found the fabled Fish of Time and defeated the nefarious C'tan way back in the first story arc. Eager to seek his aid our band of misfits find themselves in a rented anti-grav vehicle flying across the grasslands of Rndm in search of the one source of rumour that may point to Pie May's current location …_

**Asdrubael Vect: **_holding up a card to read it in the fading evening light _"'House of Pie: Girls, Girls, Drinks, Girls, Drugs, More Girls, Good Times With Girls'. Sounds like Commorragh, only with girls"

**Lelith Hesperax: **_from the back seat of the vehicle _"Then what am I?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"A dagger-wielding death machine with breasts. A fine example of the fairer sex amongst us Kabalites" _looks over at Ferrus Manus, who's driving _"You wonder why I like dating outside the city? Wonder where she keeps her spare daggers?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"No I don't. What I am wondering is where this anti-grav came from. I thought this technology became rare after the Heresy? Didn't some techpriest sat on a dataslate or something? There were loads of these things flying around the capital back there"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"It might have escaped your notice, but we passed into the Sabbat cluster when we dropped into realspace yesterday"

**Ferrus Manus: **"We're in the Danverse? That explains the tingling sensation on the back of my neck"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"What?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Well ever since that business with the Plot Hole I've somewhat developed a … sense for when the narrative consistency is at its most thin"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Your neck tingles?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Yes"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"That's similar for my hotness sense. When a flawless example of beauty is near my-"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Do I want to know the end of that sentence?"

**Urien Rakarth: **"You most definitely do not" _shuffles where he sits next to DECAPITATOR _"Damn racist Imperials never think of different spinal structure when they design these seats"

**Ferrus Manus: **"I don't think they had crazy people who graft extra limbs to themselves in mind"

**Urien Rakarth: **"Oh? And what about your techpriests?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"They use their own transport. Most of them are highly superstitious about any machine spirit they haven't taken out on a date at least once"

**Urien Rakarth: **"And you say my people are strange"

**Ferrus Manus: **"You're people aren't strange, your people are fucking insane. Who else would hang contained suns from the sky (if you can call that screwed-up five-way dimensional ceiling of yours a 'sky') simply to light your street signs. Who else would grow their kids in a vat because walking around with a bloated stomach for the best part of two years is tantamount to hanging a 'I believe in the diversity of religious beliefs' sign around your neck and standing outside the Ecclesiarchy HQ"

**Urien Rakarth: **"And your point being?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"I'm not finished. Who else would send a boxed black hole to their enemies?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"You're just jealous because you didn't think of it first"

**Ferrus Manus: **"By **post**! What if it got delivered to the wrong address?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"That would be fracking hilarious"

**Ferrus Manus: **"What if it was an orphanage?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"I think I would actually piss myself"

**Ferrus Manus: **"You're a monster, do you realise that?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Have you not noticed what your beloved sons have become in your ten thousand year long absence?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Loyalist space marines can never be described as 'monsters'. We have author-imposed immunity to that"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Oh, so you're **friendly neighbourhood** super-enhanced, hypno-doctrined, emotionally stunted child soldiers?"

_silence_

**Ferrus Manus: **"Yes. Yes we are"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"'To slay is to pray'?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"That was Ian Watson, who no one talks about any more"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Pity, I liked him"

_So did I._

**Ferrus Manus: **"Quiet. No one likes a writer with an opinion"

**Kheradruakh: **"Are we there yet?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Who the hell are you?"

**Kheradruakh: **"Erm, the DECAPITATOR? I've been with you guys since we left Commorragh"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"When did you get a name?"

**Kheradruakh: **"I guess after I bought Phil Kelly a drink last time we met in Bugman's"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Suck-up. No one likes a brown noser, you know"

**Ferrus Manus: **"I thought Kabalite society was all about brown nosing?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"A minor detail"

**Lelith Hesperax: **"In answer to your question Ke … radroo … ack-"

**Kheradruakh: **"Don't sweat it. My own mother couldn't pronounce it either"

**Lelith Hesperax: **"Er … can I call you Ken?"

**Kheradruakh: **"If you want"

**Lelith Hesperax: **"Well Ken … we're already here"

**Asdrubael Vect: **"What?"

**Ferrus Manus: **"I second that"

**Lelith Hesperax: **"We've been here for the last five minutes. Didn't you notice Ferrus? You **have **been **driving** the vehicle"

_silence_

**Ferrus Manus: **"Heh … guess I wasn't paying as much attention as I thought I was. Good thing we didn't crash, eh?"

**Asdrubael Vect: **_soothing his aching head _"Remind me Urien to check on my life insurance when we get back. These excursions with Primarchs are becoming more hazardous than a pub crawl in Low Commorragh"

**Ferrus Manus: **"Look on the bright side, we're at Pie May's house of fun - it couldn't get any worse!"

**Aurelia Malys: **"Hey boys. Didn't expect to see **you **here Vect. Guess we're seeking poor company these days to boost your ego; still taking that beating I gave you last time at the pub quiz **that** badly?"

_Silence_

**Asdrubael Vect: **"Fuck you, Ferrus. Fuck you and your big mouth"

TO BE CONTINUED ...


End file.
